


Weight of the World

by Ashley_Reid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Grief, Heroism, Lampshade Hanging, Oral Sex, Origins, Origins Spoilers, Origins retelling, Revenge, Romance, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 54
Words: 261,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley_Reid/pseuds/Ashley_Reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scarlett Amaryllis Cousland never asked for this. She didn't want to become a Grey Warden. She wasn't looking to play hero. She's just some shy bookworm who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and now it's up to her to save the world. Armed with a wicked brand of sarcasm and a really, REALLY big sword, she and her companions set off to fix the unholy mess we affectionately call The Blight. Despite her initial reluctance to lead, she soon comes to learn she has an inexplicable knack for it. Just one problem: Love. complicates. everything. </p><p>This story is a DA:O retelling and yes, dare I say, a love story. But that's not to suggest it'll just be the same ol' tale you've played through a dozen times. I've thrown in lots of extras and taken several liberties with this otherwise familiar plot, and I promise this is one story that will definitely keep you guessing. So buckle up, reader. You're in for one wild ride! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Those Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to PookatheCat for providing her own awesome series and inspiring me to begin my own! If you haven't read her stuff, hop to it! http://archiveofourown.org/series/353288

Ah yes, the beginning. I’ve been avoiding coming back here. Although, I suppose you can’t tell a proper tale without the proper background, eh? It still hurts. A lot. So let’s dispense with the dreary details and opt for the lite version, shall we? I’m of noble birth. Sister to a missing brother, daughter to a murdered mother and father. I left them, albeit unwillingly. I left that entire life behind in what would become the pursuit of a cause greater than myself. But what I wouldn’t give for the briefest of moments back in their embrace, to feel their kisses on my brow, hear their honey-toned ‘I love you’s. Maker, I miss them so much sometimes I can barely breathe.

To this day I'm not sure if I made the right decision, but in retrospect, that decision was really made for me—or so I try and console myself. I can still remember the moment he dragged me away from them like it was yesterday. Duncan. A member of the famed Grey Warden order paying Highever a visit to add to his ranks. Talk about shitty timing. Thinking back on it now, I know he was a good man—something we’re in dire need of these days. But oh how I resented him then. How I kicked and screamed and beat my fists against his back as he hauled me away from the only people who mattered to me in this Maker-forsaken world. Perhaps I could have fought harder. I could have shouted louder. Run faster. I don't know. I've gone through that fateful night so many times in my memory, reassessed how else I could have handled it—desperate to discover if there was any minuscule action I could have taken that would have spared their lives instead of mine. Not that any of that matters. Not anymore. They wanted me to escape. I know that now. I’ve accepted it. But Maker preserve me—all I could see at the time was that knowing look in their eyes that this was their end. The heartbreak in each quiet tear as it slid down their drained, pallid cheeks. That was the moment I felt the weight of a thousand worlds on my shoulders. Each step that took me farther away from them added another brick on to my burden. I was their last hope. Their shiny beacon in a realm gone dark. Yep, Atlas had nothing on me.

Duncan hauled me off to some fortress called Ostagar to meet up with the Ferelden King and some other soldiers to prepare for some great battle. I didn't really know what I was in for. I was barely paying attention to anything he said. When we finally reached our destination, I can only describe myself as a shell. Any life I had in me died when I lost my family. I was empty, through and through. To escape the pain, I resorted to thinking and feeling nothing at all. The entire journey there I couldn’t eat (much to the delight of my faithful Mabari, Meatball, who gobbled up my food happily). I couldn’t sleep. I can only imagine the impression my zombie-like appearance had left on King Cailan when he came to greet us. Some promising new recruit. Pft.

Ugh, great. I suppose this is the part where I tell you what I look like—or at least, what I looked like before I became the shambling mess darkening the gates at Ostagar. Let's see... my entire family was tall; I was no exception. I hovered around six feet, which might bother some women—we're meant to be all pretty and petite after all, aren't we?—but I've always rather liked it. Being "vertically gifted" always came in handy when I was in one of my especially stubborn/defiant moods—men tend to cower a lot easier when a woman can face them eye-to-eye. I have long, wavy, chestnut-colored hair with golden tones throughout that hits just below my shoulder blades, which I typically keep in a braid over my shoulder so it doesn’t get in my way. My eyes resemble a firestorm on a green sea—dark emerald hues on my outer iris fading to rusty orange around my pupil (poetic, eh?). My nose is round and my lips are full and pouty. My skin maintains its winter paleness year round and my build, well, my build could best be described as… curvy. I had kept up with my swordplay and days spent running after my nephew—Maker rest him—had kept me active, but the excesses of life as a noble were definitely apparent around my chest, stomach, and thighs. I looked more like an hourglass than a stone-carved warrior. Regardless, the many suitors mother introduced me to seemed quite interested, despite my aforementioned imperfections and my utter lack of reciprocation. Now, whether they were interested in my looks or my title remains to be seen…

After Cailan was done exchanging pleasantries and making empty promises about avenging my family, Duncan left me to explore the camp and meet up with another warden named Alistair. Oh, did I not mention that? Those recruits Duncan was looking for? I was it. That was the price for him saving me from the siege. And honestly, other than the tales of grandeur that had survived throughout the years, I had no idea what I was about to step into. I didn't know what to do with myself. I began surveying the area, looking for nothing in particular, just trying to keep my mind occupied. Anything, anything to keep me distracted. Anything to dull the heartache. Really, priority one should have been to find Fergus, my brother who had been MIA since the incident at Highever. Why didn't I seek him out, you ask? Well, two reasons: 1) I was so busy wallowing in my own grief I couldn't think straight and 2) I was certain my heart would not recover if I found out the worse had come to pass and he, too, was no longer among the living. Call me a coward. Call me a bad sister. But at that moment I would have rather dwelled in blissful ignorance than face yet another tragedy. And, Maker, what if I did find him alive? How exactly does one explain that in the blink of an eye, everything you know and love is now ash and dust? I could barely stand to think of it...

With Meatball in tow, I made my way through camp. I introduced him to the many other Mabari preparing for battle. I met Teyrn Loghain, a tall, dark brute of a man who was obviously the brains behind the whole operation—a supposition I came to after speaking with him for a mere five minutes or so. At the time, I even felt a little admiration for the famed Hero of River Dane. Ha, how wrong I was! Oh well, hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

In my exploration I came across an elderly mage named Wynne who explained a thing or two about the fade. I met the other potential recruits—Daveth, the womanizer and thief, and Jory, the family man and, for lack of a nicer term, coward. I was clearly in great company. After milling about for awhile longer, I found this other warden I was seeking arguing with a mage. He was slightly taller than me, broad shoulders with strawberry-blond hair, a strong jaw, and er, how do I say this politely, a _very_   _prominent_ nose. And young! Maker, he couldn’t have been more than 20. Not what I was expecting when I pictured a full-fledged Grey Warden. Duncan fit the bill—wizened, full beard, skin stained by the sun, experience exuding from his very presence. This Alistair, he was something different altogether. Not a legendary hero; just some kid like me. I somehow felt relieved and more worried at the same time.

After the mage left, he spoke to me.

“You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” He asserted.  
“...Sorry, what?” He had caught me off guard, and honestly I’d been in a daze for the past several hours… or was it days at this point?  
“Wait, we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you happen to be another mage?”  
“Do I look like a mage to you?” I asked as I wrapped my fingers around the pommel of my sword.   
“You must be Duncan’s new recruit. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize.”  
“That’s all right. No offense taken. I’m sure I don’t exactly look like your typical new recruit.” I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.  
“As the junior member of the order, I’ll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining.” He sounded almost regal in his direction. “Do you have a name or...”  
“Scarlett.” I left it at that.  
“Scarlett…” he smiled slowly. “Pretty name. You know… it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is…”

I’m sure it was innocent enough, but I couldn't help but notice he took the time to slowly look me up and down immediately after he said it. He was, after all, a young man and… “curiosity” was only natural. I’d give him a pass. This time.

“Oh give me a little credit." I defended as I unsheathed my sword and swung it—not to show off, mind you, just to illustrate that I knew damn well how to wield it.

I trained for several hours a day since I was a young girl—one of the many battles I fought against my father and won. He wanted a little lady, all prim and proper and primped and polished. I had other plans. I craved knowledge. I craved adventure. And more than anything, I craved independence. That meant learning how to hold my own in a fight, should the occasion arise. We met somewhere in the middle. At father's behest, I learned how to play the part of a highborn young lady—how to dress, how to speak, how to sit, how to bat my eyelashes, how to feign interest in even the most mundane drivel, blah blah blah. But I wanted to be so much more than that. I wanted to be my own person, not some faceless maiden to be flaunted in front of any slobbering suitor who came to court. I wanted to forge my own path someday, on my own terms. I refused to conform to the narrative my parents had planned for me since birth; I was more than some baby-making machine whose sole purpose was to sit back, look pretty, and keep her mouth shut. My story was going to be entirely of my own making. And I think my father admired that. Deep down, he liked that I had a little fight in me. Maker's breath but I do miss him...

What was I saying? Oh. Right. Combat training. My point is, I was pretty decent at it. Granted, I had never actually seen battle before the siege at Highever, but you don’t devote that kind of time to honing talent and come away with nothing.

“I can handle myself better than most.” I put the sword back in its scabbard as Alistair's impossibly wide eyes slowly settled back into his skull. 

“I'm getting that impression." The junior warden cracked a nervous, crooked smile. "So, I’m curious. Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?”

Ah, right. That's what the Grey Wardens are known for. Darkspawn, my studies had told me, were basically a race of soulless monsters who reared their ugly heads every now and again to wreak havoc on poor, unsuspecting Thedas. And for some reason, Grey Wardens were especially adept at putting them in the ground. It was rumored that a Blight was upon us, meaning a whole lot more darkspawn than usual would need to be dealt with, in addition to the head honcho giving them orders—the infamous Archdemon. _OoOoOoh._ Spooky. 

“Have you?” ‘Atta girl. Keep him talking. Keep the focus off of you. Keep yourself distracted from the pain emanating from the gaping hole in your chest.   
“I asked you first,” he smirked.  
“No, I haven’t. Sounds like a blast, though.” I offered sardonically.  
“I confess, you seem... less than thrilled to be here. Did you even _want_ to become a Grey Warden?”

Ugh. I so did not want to talk about myself. I could’ve lied and said yes, this was my life’s dream. I could’ve said I wanted nothing more than to pledge myself to the service of such a noble and worthy cause. None of it was true. I was here because I no longer had a home. No longer had people who cared about me. My presence at Ostagar was a product of circumstance; nothing more. I chose to not lie, but not exactly tell the truth, either.

“I haven’t really thought about it.” Was all I offered as I broke eye contact. 

Alistair furrowed his brow and decided not to press me. Maker, was I thankful for that.

“You don't really talk much, do you?" 

I met the question with a stare accompanied by more silence.

"Well, you're in luck. My mouth more or less never stops running. What a pair we will make!” He tried to joke, clearly unbeknownst to him that I lost all my mirth the moment I left my parents' side. I continued staring at him blankly. I myself had no problem with silences or perceived lulls in conversation. I was a fan of quiet, truth be told. Alistair, true to his claim, was all too happy to fill the void as quickly as possible. “I was training as a Templar for the Chantry before Duncan recruited me. That was about six months ago.”  
“A Templar? You were a mage hunter?”  
“Not that that's all Templars do, but, yes. Duncan saw I wasn’t happy, and figured my training against mages could double for fighting darkspawn. Now, here I stand—a proud Grey Warden.”  
“You speak fondly of Duncan,” I noticed.  
“He risked a lot of trouble with the Grand Cleric to help me,” he paused. “What about you? What do you think of him?”

I thought about it for a moment. Although I did greatly resent him at the time for doing what he did back in Highever, after some reflection I came to realize he only did what he thought was best. And I owed him my life. I settled on, “He seems a kind man, if a little firm.” Then I decided to change the subject. “What can you tell me about this Joining?”  
“I…” the joy that was once in his hazel eyes slowly began to drain. Remember before when I said I was both worried and relieved? Worry was definitely winning now. “I really wish I could tell you more but, these lips are sealed.”  
“Ah, so you choose now to stop being chatty? Convenient.” I rolled my eyes before turning around and walking back toward the heart of the encampment. Alistair followed.

We reached Duncan and met up with the other recruits. He sent us, Alistair included, into the Korcari Wilds to collect darkspawn blood and find some ancient warden contracts that were supposed to help us defeat the Blight. I’m certain there were more details, but I was only half paying attention. Despite my apparent lackadaisical approach to this whole thing, I admit I was looking forward to getting some blood on my sword and working out some of my issues on the battlefield. It was the only reprieve I could think of from my unending grief.

When we encountered our first darkspawn, I was actually a lot less phased by the whole thing than I’d anticipated. Of course, they were monstrous. The stuff of nightmares. They snarled and screeched and clawed and were most definitely just as much out for our blood as we were for theirs. But something inside me simply switched on, and I took care of business, running them through with my father’s sword, pretending each one was Rendon Howe, the bastard who robbed me of parents. As I felt my blade connect with their—I suppose you could call it flesh, but I honestly don’t know—as I saw their black blood spew from their soon-to-be lifeless bodies, I almost felt like my old self again—fiery, determined, powerful. For the first time in days, I almost felt… alive. Maybe this Grey Warden thing wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

“Maker have mercy! Aren’t noble young ladies supposed to learn things like how to embroider and play the lute? ...Right. Remind me to stay on your good side.” Alistair exclaimed as I wiped the blood from my sword.  
“Who said you’re on my good side to begin with?” I flashed him a brief smile. I couldn’t help it. I’d felt better than I had in days.  
“Surely I couldn't have pissed you off already... We only just met.”  
“Oh, I don't know. Something tells me you have an exceptional knack for that sort of thing.” My smile widened despite myself. He smiled back.

Darkspawn blood: Check. The contracts, however, were proving to be a bit more of a challenge. When we went to obtain them, we were stopped by a striking young woman with hair as black as an inkwell and yellow eyes that literally glowed when the sun caught them at the right angle; yes, you read that right: yellow. She was rather scantily clad in black and purple rags, and her smooth contralto voice was asking me a question.

“What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?”  
“I am neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower.” I explained plainly.   
“Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.” Seemed like a fair deal.  
“I am Scarlett. A pleasure to meet you.” Just because I was covered in blood and obviously dealing with a wild apostate didn’t mean I couldn’t be civil.  
“Manners? Well well. Today is just full of surprises. You may call me Morrigan.”

I could hear the boys whispering behind me, claiming she was a witch and she’d turn them into frogs or gobble them up or some such nonsense. Fine. If I had to act like the only real “man” here, so be it. Yes, I'll grant, she looked a bit odd and mysterious. But she was a woman. Just a woman. If she wanted to intimidate me, she would have to do better than stand there and talk at me. I've always erred on the side of pragmatism. Morrigan could have been completely nude and clucking like a chicken for all I cared. We needed the contracts; she knew where they were. End of story.

“Morrigan, if you would be so kind as to return the contracts that could once be found here, we’ll be on our way.” I offered.   
“I will not, for ‘twas not I who removed them.”  
“Then who removed them?”  
“’Twas my mother, in fact.”  
“Can you take us to her?” I asked. 

Alistair grabbed my arm from behind and whispered in my ear. “We should get those treaties, but I dislike this… Morrigan’s sudden appearance. It’s too convenient.” His breath tickled the flesh of my ear as he whispered and it sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. Hey, don't look at me like that. My ears always were especially sensitive, and I may have been devastated but I wasn’t dead. Not yet, anyway.

“I say we go with her.” I whispered back, and much to my surprise, he didn't even try to argue. He just reluctantly gave me a nod of acknowledgment and we were on our way, just like that. An interesting turn of events, considering he was the so-called leader of this little expedition. Anyway, we acquired the contracts from Morrigan’s mother, Flemeth, and we headed back to Duncan.

As night began to fall, it was time to begin the ritual.

Ah, the Joining. How can I truly describe it? It didn't seem like there was much to it, really. At least not outwardly. Alistair said a few words, and Duncan instructed us to drink some darkspawn blood. Gross, I'll grant you, but seemingly pretty straightforward. I soon came to realize, however, that it was anything but simple. It was more like... imagine you’re being chased by a rabid wolf. You run and you run and you run and just when you think you’re about to escape, you come to a cliff. Your choices are to either be eaten by the wolf, or jump off the edge. That’s what it means to take part in the Joining: You either die for certain, or take your chances with the cliff.

Dareth went first—and lost his life almost as soon as the goblet left his lips. I didn’t think much of him, but I was sorry to see him go. Jory didn’t even bother with the cliff and opted for certain death instead, in his way. I didn’t envy Duncan or his duty to do what needed to be done for the sake of the order. I could tell he took no pleasure in taking Jory’s life, and I respected him all the more for it. Then came my turn, and let me tell you, the wolf was mighty tempting. Maybe I could be reunited with my parents. Maybe they were waiting for me at the Maker’s side. But then I remembered their final wish: for me to go on; to be that shining beacon in the darkness. So I stood at that imaginary precipice, closed my eyes, and drank.


	2. Fight or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now a brand-spanking-new Grey Warden, Scarlett gets her second taste of betrayal all too soon when the darkspawn invade Ostagar.

When I came to, I felt sicker than I had ever felt in my entire life. I opened my eyes, or so I thought, but all I saw was darkness. Then flecks of color slowly started appearing, and finally I could make out a fuzzy figure’s face staring down at me. That is, once everything stopped spinning. Ugh.

“Welcome back,” Alistair smiled.  
“That was some welcome indeed. I don’t suppose you Grey Wardens have any home remedies for severe nausea…” I asked as I brought my hand to my forehead to wipe away the cold sweat.  
Alistair chuckled. “Not as such, no. It will pass, trust me. We’ve all been through this.”  
“So, that’s it? I’m now a full-fledged Grey Warden?”  
“‘That’s it’? Maker, how much more harrowing do you want the ritual to be? Or were you expecting cake and streamers?”  
“Of course not. I just… didn’t think it would be so… simple.”  
“Women do love to make things complicated…” he smirked.

I mustered the strength to land a punch on his arm.

“Ow! Don’t hit me. I bruise easily.”

He grabbed my hands and helped me to my feet. I swooned as another wave of nausea hit. _Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up._ was all I kept thinking to myself as Duncan made his way over to us. As he opened his mouth to speak, the inevitable occurred and I ran off to the nearest shrub to get sick.

As I made my way back, I was not at all happy about the sullen look I saw on Alistair’s face.

"Oh no. You’re not supposed to get sick! Now you’ll have to do the Joining all over again! The blood must stay in your system or it won’t stick."

My eyes grew wide and my heart sank at the thought of going through that horrible experience a second time. I was about to open my mouth in protest when his solemn facade broke…

“Hahaha oh man. You should have seen your face! Kidding, kidding. You’re a Grey Warden, now and forever.”

If looks could kill, he would have been a dead man.

“Oh come on, I couldn’t resist! It was funny, admit it!”

Once again, I stared daggers at him, but his belly laugh was a bit infectious. A smile started tugging at the corners of my mouth despite my every effort to remain royally pissed.

“Tell me, Alistair, are you familiar with the phrase ‘Fade hath no fury like a woman scorned’?”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, I have a new mission. I _will_ make you laugh, Scarlett-whateveryourlastnameis. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but Maker as my witness, it will happen. I’m wise to your act. No one can hate fun as much as you’re putting on.”

I shot a quick look at Duncan—had he really not told him a thing about me?—before I responded.

“That might prove to be a bit of a challenge.”  
“Oh, I never shy away from a challenge.” And I kid you not, he wiggled his eyebrows. Merciful Andraste, couldn’t a girl be miserable in peace?  
“Ahem. If you two are quite finished.” Duncan interrupted. “King Cailan wishes to see us.”

I followed Duncan to meet the King and Loghain who were mid-squabble over our strategy for tonight’s battle royal against the darkspawn. Thinking back on it I was a fool, but I found myself looking forward to the coming fight. If killing just a few darkspawn in the Wilds breathed new life into my aching soul, imagine how it would feel to take on an entire horde of them!

… And then Cailan. Ruined. Everything. Alistair and I were to light a freaking beacon. That’s it. No glorious battle. No war cries. No blood. No release.

Alistair was also less than thrilled with our newly assigned roles.

“So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?”  
“I agree. We should be in the battle. I realize I’m new to this whole being a Grey Warden thing, but isn’t fighting darkspawn, like, what we do?”  
“Seriously, Duncan. I’ve seen her in action. You don’t want a warrior like that on the sidelines.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Cailan has asked you to perform a task of great importance. If the Tower of Ishal is where he needs you, then to the Tower of Ishal you shall go.” Duncan ordered authoritatively.  
“I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line. Darkspawn or no.”   
I patted his shoulder. “Way to take a stand, Alistair.”  
“Yes, well, a man has to have his limits. Alright, one signal fire, coming right up.”

...

At first it seemed the battle was going beautifully according to plan. The darkspawn horde was large enough to strike terror into the deepest depths of our hearts—the stomping of their feet like thunder, the gleam on their blades blinding under the pale moonlight, the wanton savagery emanating from their pitch black eyes. But Loghain's forces were our ace in the hole, and that was enough to strengthen everyone's resolve. Arrows were loosed, Mabari were unleashed, and the Wardens were doing what they do best—mowing those disgusting monsters down one by one. However, Alistair and I ran into a slight hiccup when we reached the tower; it was overrun by darkspawn that had apparently infiltrated it via the use of underground tunnels. My eyes instantly lit up. Looks like combat is back on the menu. 

“We’ve got to reach that beacon!” Alistair declared.  
I unsheathed my sword with utter satisfaction. “Oh, trust me. That won’t be a problem. Let’s take these sons of bitches down.” A smile played across my lips but I’m certain there was nothing friendly about it. I felt manic; frenzied.

“Scarlett… you’re scaring me a little.”  
“Less talk. More kill.” I growled.  
“Yes ma’am!”

And with that, we rallied some of the other soldiers and, not without a fair amount of difficulty, mind you, fought our way through to the top of the tower and lit the damn thing. I felt so accomplished when it went up. I was doing something good for my fellow Wardens, for my country, for mankind. I was preserving my parents’ legacy. I was becoming the woman they'd always hoped I'd be.

... I know, I know, my sense of self in the moment was rather inflated, but it just felt so good to do something right. That something turned out exactly the way it was supposed to. Pangs of optimism seeped into my heart. We could pull this thing out! We could win!

And then no one came. There was no bloody ambush. No reinforcements. Loghain and his cowardice had sentenced Cailan, his army, and all the Wardens to death. It was Highever all over again. Set into motion by the cold stab of betrayal, impending disaster and slaughter were unfolding right before my eyes and I, once again, was powerless to stop it.

No. znot this time. I would not fail my fellow Wardens as I had failed my parents. I was going to help them or die trying.

I looked over at Alistair who was standing beside me watching the same horror unfold, my eyes ablaze with newfound determination.

“If we must die, let it be like this.”  
“For the Wardens,” he said solemnly.  
I nodded. “For us all.” Then he leaned in and gave me a quick, forceful kiss before running off to face his fate.

All I remember after that was a bunch of darkspawn descending upon us at the top of that tower and being thrown against a wall so hard I could have sworn all my bones were ground to a fine powder.

...

When I regained consciousness, I was surrounded by the unfamiliar. Not my bed. Not my mother at my bedside. Not my fireplace. Not my hut. Of course it wasn’t all a bad dream. No one is that lucky.

“Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother will be pleased.”  
“Err… yes. Where am I?” I blinked a few times with the hope it would make the room stop spinning.  
“I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten, and we are in the Wilds, where I am bandaging your wounds. You are welcome, by the way. How does your memory fair? Do you remember Mother’s rescue?”  
“I... I remember charging. I remember endless darkspawn. I remember… ALISTAIR! Did he survive?! Is he here?!” I sat up in bed immediately as soon as I remembered he existed. And I just as quickly realized that was an incredibly stupid decision. Ouch.

“Yes. Mother managed to save you and your friend, though it was a close call. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend… he is not taking it well.”

She retold the events at Ostagar so callously it started me thinking about why in the Maker’s name two apostates would rescue two Grey Wardens in the first place. It clearly wasn’t because they had a soft spot for us. What skin did they have in this twisted game? The wheels in my head were turning, but even that seemed to make the pain worse. I opted to let it go. One problem at a time, Scarlett. Get out of bed first. Discover the probably nefarious plot of your rescuers later. 

“I should go to him.” It was silly, but somehow my emotions were clinging to Alistair as though he was all I had left in the world. The boy was practically a stranger, but I cannot adequately describe how thankful I was that I hadn’t lost him, too.

“If you wish. Mother wanted to see you when you awoke.” She turned to leave.  
“Morrigan…” I started.  
“Mmm?” she called back.  
“Thank you. For all that you’ve done.”

She lowered her head in acknowledgment and opened the door.

I do not know if you’ve ever been thrown by an Ogre, but 0/10, do not recommend. Everything ached when I moved to get up from that bed. More than ached if I’m being honest, but just remembering how I felt is making me hurt inside so I’ll leave it at that mild adjective. Leaning on whatever I could get my hands on, I somehow made it outside.

“See, here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man.” Flemeth announced my arrival. She was an elderly woman, gray and ragged and hunched over, her voice deep and shaky as though she had just inhaled smoke but could somehow speak through it. Regardless, it was not a difficult stretch to see that she was once just as, if not more, beautiful than her daughter. And despite all she'd done for us, I couldn't shake the feeling that this woman, though appearing frail and a bit long in the tooth, was dangerous and definitely not to be trifled with. 

Alistair looked at me with all the relief and joy he could muster. “You… You’re alive. I thought you were dead for sure.”  
“It takes more than a few darkspawn to kill me.” I tried to smile and mostly failed. “I’m um... I'm glad you're here.” I admitted shyly.   
“This… this doesn’t seem real. If it weren’t for Morrigan’s mother, we’d be dead on top of that tower.”  
I looked toward Flemeth. “Not to seem ungrateful but, why did you rescue us?” Incredulity, thy name is Scarlett. Seems I was getting back to my old self.  
“Well we can’t have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Not with an impending Blight on our hands.” The witch answered matter-of-factly. 

We started to brainstorm about why Loghain had done what he had done; what he could possibly hope to gain. Then our attention turned to the Blight and the horrors that were surely in store for us. I asked if we could expect aid, and Alistair assured me there was none to be had, save for someone by the name of Arl Eamon in Redcliffe, and even that was a reach. So there we were, one brand-spanking-new Grey Warden and one six months my senior, preparing to face impossible odds to save Ferelden from assured death and destruction.

“You have more at your disposal than you realize…” Flemeth offered.  
“Of course! The treaties! Mages, dwarves, elves, and whoever else… they are all obligated to help Grey Wardens during a Blight!"

I opted not to respond to my fellow warden's newfound enthusiasm. It was a feeling I just couldn't identify with at the moment.

"So, can we do this? Can we raise an army to defeat the darkspawn and save Ferelden?!” I swear, if Alistair had a tail, it would have been wagging. He was so pumped, so full of hope. But I couldn’t help it. The realist in me took over.

“You make it sound so easy…” I began hesitantly. 

Flemeth interrupted before I could go into my full diatribe about how ill-equipped we were, how impractical this plan was, how lofty our ultimate goal appeared to be.

“So you’re ready to be Grey Wardens, then?” She asked.

Alistair looked into my eyes then, his need for me to be strong, to not abandon him so apparent that it made me wince. I was in no condition to be someone’s rock; my own foundation was in shambles as it was. And why should I stay? Honor? Duty? Antiquated ideals from a time long past, in my book. But the blatant need in those hazel eyes…

I sighed, defeated. Alistair had had enough heartbreak after what we only just suffered at Ostagar. I wasn’t about to give him more.

“As we’ll ever be,” was all I could offer. Before we were sent on our way, I had to ask: “Is there nothing else you can offer us, Flemeth?”  
“As a matter of fact…” she began.

And that was how, much to her own and Alistair’s dismay, Morrigan joined our little party. She suggested we hit a village called Lothering as our first destination to gather supplies. She knew the area better than any of us, so we took her at her word and off we went: the grieving noble with an insatiable bloodlust, the templar reject turned junior warden, and the cold-hearted apostate with mommy issues. Maker help us all.


	3. Holding Out for a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unnerved by Morrigan's and Alistair's reluctance to lead, Scarlett comes to realize she has to step up, despite feeling completely ill-prepared to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're three chapters in and I would love to know your thoughts! What do you like? What don't you like? Can't wait to hear from you and as always, thank you for reading!

If I had my way, we would have traveled in harmonious silence. Forced, artificial conversation is just about the worst thing on the planet, in my opinion. I am not one for small talk. I wasn’t sure if Morrigan and I would see eye-to-eye on much of anything, but on this point, I do believe we agreed. Alistair, naturally, had other plans.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but, you’re our guide, Morrigan, right? So shouldn’t you be, you know, guiding?”

“That is interesting. I had a similar wonder myself. Of the two of you that remain, are you not the senior Grey Warden here? I find it curious that you allow another to lead, while you follow.”

Wait, what was happening? I had noticed that despite several tries to fall back, both Alistair and Morrigan seemed determined to stay behind me, regardless of the fact that I had virtually no idea where we were headed. I thought it was just a coincidence. Oh, I so did not like where this conversation was going…

“You find that curious, do you?” His words were almost dripping with disdain.  
“In fact, you defer to a new recruit. Is this a policy of the Grey Wardens? Or simply a personal one?”

Yep, confirmed: Absolutely did not like where this conversation was going.

“What do you want to hear? That I prefer to follow? I do.”

Oh great. Here we go.

“You sound so very defensive.” Morrigan called him out.  
Alistair turned a shade of red that should have been reserved for turnips only. “Couldn’t you crawl into a bush somewhere and die? That would be great, thanks.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around to face them both. Enough was enough. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight.” I began forcefully. “I am no leader. I only agreed to go on this little crusade because, apparently, no one else is in all of Ferelden is up to the task. Maker's sake, just look at me! I’m a mess! You don’t want someone like me making all the decisions. My sanity is hanging on by a thread. I can't… I…” My vision started to go black—again; have you noticed how much that’s been happening to me lately?—so I sought refuge by walking away and leaning my forehead against a shade tree.

Breathe in… 1… 2… 3…  
And breathe out… 1… 2… 3…

Then I felt a heavy armored hand on my shoulder.

“I cannot do this.” I whispered. “Please don’t ask me to do this.”

There was a pause as Alistair considered my plea.

“Well, let’s consider the alternatives, shall we?” He tugged my shoulder so I’d turn around and face him. I reluctantly complied. “Let’s see… there’s Morrigan, of course. An apostate with all the empathy of a gnat; someone for whom the ends will always justify the means, consequences be damned.”

I looked Morrigan’s way for a moment. She was literally crushing helpless insects with her staff to kill her boredom. Perhaps he had a point.

“Or there’s the dog. Might he be up for it?” Alistair asked playfully. Meatball gave a happy bark as soon as he heard his name, but I don't think he was quite ready for such a monumental task.   
“Why won’t you lead?” I implored.  
“What? Lead? Me? No, no, no. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I’m stranded somewhere without any pants.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth despite my sour mood. He placed both hands on my shoulders and squeezed gently.

“You see? We’re hopeless without you.” He smiled softly.

I considered my next words carefully. How could I make him see my point? How could I fully convey that I was the wrong woman for the job?

“Do you know one of the things I miss most about home?” I asked. He seemed confused by the sudden change of subject. I have a point, Alistair, I promise. Stay with me on this.

“What’s that?”  
“Our library. I loved to read anything and everything. Poetry, philosophy, history, you name it, I would read it. But I always had a special place in my heart for fairy tales and adventures. Far off places, epic battles, kings and queens, fearless heroes…”  
“Not that I’m complaining that you’re saying more than three words to me in one go, but I’m not sure I see your point…”  
“My point is that this story, this journey we’re about to embark on, it needs a hero, Alistair. And that is something I cannot be. Something I will never be.”

The loss of my family, my home, all I once held dear... it had broken me, of that much I was certain. How could I even entertain the notion of being a leader—someone in charge of keeping everyone else alive—when deep down I longed for nothing more than the sweet release of death? The only thing that kept me going was the silent promise I'd made to my mother and father in their final moments: that I would go on, that I would avenge them, that their sacrifice will not have been for nothing. I hung my head and closed my eyes as I felt a single tear trail down my cheek. Great. Just great.

“Well…” he began and placed two fingers under my chin to lift my head, “Until we find this hero, Ferelden will just have to make do with you. And for whatever it’s worth, I believe this story could do far worse, as far as heroes go.”

I mustered a half-smile for his kindness and went back to join Morrigan.

“Ah, you’ve returned. All done with our warm and fuzzy heart-to-heart, then?” she asked.   
“Well, I would’ve been more than happy to have said heart-to-heart with you, Morrigan, but I think that implies you’d have to have one.” I replied flippantly.   
“Ha!” Alistair laughed out loud.  
“Oh shut up." she hissed. "This way.”

...

We spent the rest of our journey in almost complete silence, save for the occasional bark from Meatball. I’m sure it was driving Alistair insane, but if the choice was between verbally going toe-to-toe with Morrigan again or keeping his mouth shut, I could understand why he chose the latter.

Not much happened in Lothering, really. It was a quaint little town bursting at the seams with people who were terrified out of their minds. We did what little we could to help them; I’ll give you the highlight reel so I don’t bore you to tears: bandits, bears, traps, poisons, two dwarves, an unscrupulous merchant, an incredibly stubborn Revered Mother, and a partridge in a pear tree. You got all that?

As for the important parts, well, we had some good news and some bad news.

Good news: We freed a tight-lipped Qunari prisoner and he joined our party. For however good I might fancy myself to be at intimidation, he was better. Trust me on this. It would come in handy.

Bad news: He was imprisoned for murdering innocent people. Meh, it’s fine. I can sleep with one eye open.

Good news: We returned a lost amulet to a Templar inside the chantry. I don’t know if I truly believe in the Maker, but I’d rather err on the side of caution and do a good deed here and there to see if He’s paying attention. Better safe than sorry.

Bad news: We found out Arl Eamon was gravely ill and thus would likely not be able to aid our cause. Oh, and Loghain had taken it upon himself to declare the wardens outlaws for abandoning Cailan on the battlefield. So, there’s that.

Good news: We got into a real live bar brawl—something I’d wanted to do since I was a little girl. It was so thrilling! 10/10 would brawl again. And we secured another person to aid us in our quest—a young woman who seemed to handle herself quite well in a fight. 

Bad news: That young woman may or may not be completely batshit crazy—she claimed the Maker had given her visions or some such nonsense. Blast it, we needed all the help we could get. Who among us wasn’t a little bit crazy, anyway?

As the chantry and the tavern were all full up with refugees, we found a place outside town to set up camp. Full disclosure: I had never camped before in my life. I was what you’d call an “indoor person”. When we stopped to gather supplies in Lothering, I just told Alistair to pick up what he figured we’d need on our rather limited budget and be done with it.

Alistair dropped the supplies at my feet and went off to set up his tent. I examined the supplies one by one, growing more and more perplexed with each passing minute. Welp, maybe I should just dive in and see if I can make sense of this mess, right?

Wrong. I struggled like crazy. Every time I made an attempt to keep the damn thing up, it fell down. So I kept trying and trying and the tent just would not see reason.

“Come on, Scarlett,” I muttered to myself, “You’ve survived the Joining. You’ve fought bandits, bears, and darkspawn head on. Why can you not figure out a bloody tent?!” I groaned with frustration as I heard a chuckle behind me. I turned around to see Alistair shaking his head.

“Oh, so glad I can amuse you.” I growled.  
“If you would like some help, all you need to do is ask you know.”  
“I’m fine.” I huffed. “I am perfectly capable of…” it collapsed again. “Making a complete fool of myself.”

He laughed louder this time.

“Alright, alright. I forfeit. Would you please show me how to assemble this blasted thing?”  
“It would be my pleasure, my lady.”

Alistair made it look so simple a toddler should have been able to do it. Blindfolded. Ugh. I was sure he’d need to show me… oh… about 100 more times before I really got the hang of it. Rendon Howe—the man responsible for the death of my family and Loghain's righthand man—was most definitely at the top of my shit list, but tents, well, they weren’t far behind.

Morrigan decided to set up her own little camp separate from the rest of us. I didn’t know what to make of her. I’m typically pretty good at reading people, but she was a total mystery to me. I didn’t know her intentions or if she even had any. Maybe accompanying Alistair and I was all a part of some grand scheme she and Flemeth had concocted. Maybe she was just along for the ride. All I was certain of was that she helped us when it mattered most, and this entire quest would go a whole lot smoother if we all tried to find some common ground and get along.

“Hello, Morrigan.” I greeted as I sauntered over to her little fire.  
“Oh. It’s you.”  
“Listen, I’m sorry I got a little… short with you, before. I’ve just been… overwhelmed lately. I hope you can understand.”  
“Your apologies are useless. But understood.”

I figured that was about as good as it was going to get and changed the subject.

“So, did you grow up in the Wilds?” Did I mention small talk was not my forte?  
“Why do you ask me such questions? I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?”  
“Well, you could if you really wanted to...”

That comment seemed to defuse the tension a little and she began to open up about her exploits outside the Wilds, her daring escapes from Templars, her talents as a mage, her relationship with the apparently legendary Flemeth.

“Dare I ask of your own mother? Few are abominations of legend, ‘tis true, but I find myself curious nevertheless.”

I wasn’t prepared for that. The last thing I expected was for her to take an interest in me or in my past. I had been working so hard to close the floodgates of my emotions and all it took was one question to allow the waves to come roaring through. Oh, you’re so not going to cry, Scarlett Cousland. Not here. Least of all in front of her.

“My… my mother died. Recently, in fact. I um… if you’ll excuse me.”

Thus said I rushed off to my tent, closed the flap, and wailed into my bedroll.

…

Darkness and fire surrounded me. I was alone back in that tower slaying darkspawn after darkspawn but they kept coming—an endless parade of monstrosities. Only these weren’t common darkspawn. Each had the contorted face of someone I left behind in Highever. Ser Gilmore, a childhood friend, attacked first and I ran him through with my sword. Nan, my old babysitter, followed. Then my sister-in-law Oriana. My nephew Oren. Fergus. Mother. Father. And I. Murdered. All of them.

…

I awoke gasping for breath. Maker, I don’t even know when I fell asleep but it all felt so real I was still shaking, cold sweat dripping from my forehead. Meatball had found his way into my tent and looked at me, puzzled and whining with worry.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been paying much attention to you lately, boy. You doing alright?” I scratched behind his ears and kissed his head. Contented, he laid back down and continued his slumber. I was riddled with envy. Who could sleep now?

I decided to head out of my tent and stare at the fire for awhile with the hopes of calming down and clearing my head. Much to my surprise, Alistair was already awake.

“Bad dreams, huh?” He asked.  
“It…it seemed so real.” I admitted softly as I sat down near the crackling fire.   
“The Archdemon, it ‘talks’ to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That’s why we know this is really a Blight. Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too.”  
“I see. And this happens often, I take it?”  
“Eventually you learn to block them out. It just takes some time. Are you... trembling?”

I brought my knees up to my chin and hugged them, trying to calm my shaking. It didn’t work.

“I’ll be fine.”

He got up to sit by the fire next to me, placing his blanket over my shoulders. I clutched it closed and continued holding myself tight.

“Well, how about we change the subject? I uh... realize this may not be the most opportune time but, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something.”  
I lifted my head up from behind my knees and met his eyes. “Ask away.”  
“That terrible night when we were up in the tower... How much of that do you remember?”

Interesting. I thought for sure he was going to ask me who I was, where I came from, what I was really doing here. Or, at the very least, why I was crying so hard before. I closed my eyes and thought hard, but not so hard I remembered every vivid detail. Conjuring up the events at Ostagar sure as shit wasn't going to cure me of my shaking. 

“I... I remember lighting the beacon. I remember you and me watching the battle below and saying what we thought were our last words to each other… and then…”

Alistair turned bright red, from the base of his neck all the way up to his ears. Ah, so that’s what this was about. We were having _this_ conversation.

“Scarlett, I am so sorry—”  
“Alistair, we really don’t need to go here.” I interjected.   
“But I want to explain. You must think I’m a complete—”  
“Look, I get it. We thought we were going to die. I was right in front of you. Emotions were running high. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”  
“Well, I—”  
“Listen, I don’t see it as an affront to my womanhood. I’m not suddenly in love with you or expecting you to propose marriage. It was just a tiny, insignificant kiss. No real harm done. Okay?”

He looked positively stunned.

“Huh. I don’t believe it.” He just stared at me, mouth slightly agape.  
“…What?”  
“I think we just had a conversation where you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise instead of the other way around…” He smiled at me, and it was a genuine one. And wouldn’t you know it? My trembling stopped.


	4. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now a party of five (plus Meatball), Scarlett decides to get better acquainted with her new companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your feedback would be most appreciated! Thanks for reading. :)

I did manage to fall back asleep eventually. The nightmares returned, of course, but I was grateful for the little sleep I did manage to pilfer before I awoke to the sound of my companions bickering. Joy of joys.

“We need to see Eamon now more than ever. If he’s not sick, great, we need to ask him for help. If he is, then we need to see how bad the situation really is so we can devise a way to help him!” Alistair argued.

“Why do you insist we rely on the help of a man on his deathbed?” Morrigan posed. “The longer we wait to attack this Loghain, the more powerful he becomes. Why do we not meet him head on and end this once and for all?”

“I agree.” Sten offered. “We are wasting time. Let us meet our enemy on the battlefield.”

“It would be ill-advised to just dive in head-first without securing alliances.” Leliana chimed in.

I slowly crawled out of my tent, hoping they’d all be too wrapped up in their dispute to really notice me.

“Good morning,” Alistair greeted, trying to separate his annoyance with everyone else from his now pleasant tone. Blast! Discovered!

I yawned and stretched my arms behind me. “Is it? It seems like we’re off to a less-than-stellar start.”

“It would appear we are of two minds about how best to proceed,” Morrigan filled me in. “So what say you, fearless leader?”

Okay, now she was getting on my nerves. She knew better than anyone how much I hadn’t asked for this job and here she was, rubbing it in my face. I gritted my teeth to keep myself from biting her head off, then I weighed our options. Feeding into Morrigan's taunts was not going to get us anywhere.

Alistair wanted to see Eamon. I get that. He seems to know him and he trusts him and Redcliffe isn’t that far from here. But the trip could be all for naught if the knight in the Lothering chantry spoke truly about his condition, and we had precious little resources to go around as it was. The idea to drop everything and seek out Loghain was ludicrous. Our merry little brood wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Okay, here’s my thinking,” I began as I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. It was too early for this shit and I felt a severe headache coming on. They all stared at me intently, waiting with bated breath for direction from their so-called “fearless leader.”

“I do intend to seek out Eamon’s aid. We should use all of the connections and resources at our disposal before facing Loghain and his men. That’s just common sense.”

Morrigan and Sten began to open their mouths, no doubt to vocalize their strong disagreement. I just raised a single finger in the air to signal them to let me finish and, Maker as my witness, it shut them up. I couldn’t believe that worked.

“But!” I interjected, “We cannot disregard the report we received in Lothering that he is very, very ill. When someone is ill, what do you do? Anyone?”

Alistair raised his hand.

“Not necessary, Alistair, but I appreciate your enthusiasm.”  
He put his hand down sheepishly and answered, “You… make them better?”  
“Right! You make them better. And how can we do that?”  
“With a healer!” Thanks, Leliana. Way to keep up.  
“Exactly. And where might we find the best healers in all of Ferelden?”

Silence.

I took it upon myself to answer my own question. “The Circle Tower has quite a stash of mages, does it not? Some are bound to know healing magic.”  
“A pointless diversion. We have a mage right here.” Sten asserted.  
“Yes, I’m aware but—and do correct me if I’m wrong, Morrigan—healing is not in her wheelhouse.”  
“An odd turn of phrase, but you are correct. A healer I am not.”  
“Eamon is an Arl. I’m sure he already has the best of care…” Alistair reasoned.  
“It’s possible, but we really have no way of knowing for sure what’s going on in that castle. We need to go to the Circle at some point regardless. Would it not be better to have the mages as a resource when we go to Redcliffe than to show up empty-handed?”

Silence again.

“Oh come on, help me out here,” I entreated. “If anyone else has a better idea I’m more than willing to listen.”

There was a pregnant pause as everyone considered my rationale.

“The Circle.” Alistair agreed. Everyone else nodded their assent. Well, everyone except for Sten. He remained stalwart as ever.  
“Great, we’re agreed then. But first… might we have some breakfast?” I felt like I hadn’t eaten in a year. After Highever I wasn’t able to eat for days, but all of a sudden my appetite had returned with a vengeance. Seemingly all at once, everyone turned and looked at Morrigan.

“Why do you look at me?”

No one looked away.

“Ugh. FINE.” And with that, she stormed off to gather some ingredients.

After we ate breakfast and packed up our things, we began our journey to the Circle Tower. I was at the front—again, not by choice—with Meatball at my side, Alistair was right behind me but ahead of Leliana, and Morrigan and Sten brought up the rear. Probably for the best that Alistair and Morrigan weren’t in super close proximity to one another. More squabbling would do nothing for my headache.

In typical Alistair fashion, he struck up a conversation with Leliana.

“So, let me get this straight: You were a cloistered sister?”  
“You must have been a brother before you became a Templar, no?”

Alistair must have told her about his past earlier, though I have no idea when. He was so open with people. A quality he and I certainly did not share.

“I never actually became a Templar. I was recruited into the Grey Wardens before I took my final vows.”  
“Do you ever regret leaving the chantry?” she asked.  
“No, never.” Well, that was mighty decisive. “Do you?”  
“Yes. You may not believe it, but I found peace there. The kind of peace I’ve never known.”   
“You’re right,” I interjected. “I don’t believe it.”  
“She speaks!” Alistair teased. I shot him a glare over my shoulder.  
“Why not? A life of service to the Maker can be most rewarding.”  
“No offense, Leliana, but in my experience, chantryfolk are some of the rudest, phoniest, most judgmental people I have ever encountered. Present company excluded, of course.” Nice save, Scarlett. I know it sounded harsh, and I really didn't mean it to come off that way, but after years of being forced to attend every single dreary service and act like a pillar of righteousness, to have all eyes on your every move and hear the whispers whenever you so much as look at someone the wrong way, it had really soured me on the whole chantry-going experience. 

“Well, you shouldn’t let your limited experience color your entire opinion. There are good people there. I know this for certain.” She countered.  
“I’m going to have to agree with Scarlett on this one,” Alistair chimed back in. “The Revered Mother hated me. I remember it used to get so quiet in the monastery that I would start screaming until one of the brothers came running. I would tell them that I was just checking. You never know, right?”  
I had to smile. That was just so… him. “Of course you did.”  
“I… no, I never did anything like that. I enjoyed the quiet.”

Leliana wasn’t really offended by Alistair’s admission, but you could tell she definitely didn’t approve of his antics.

“Suit yourself. Maker, stick you and her in a room and you could probably hear the drop of a pin,” he gestured toward me. “But yeah, totally worth it. The look on their faces was always priceless.”

During a lull in the conversation between my nearer companions, I started to overhear a conversation between Morrigan and Sten. Who could’ve predicted that? I took Sten for the strong silent type.

“I am led to understand the Qunari have their own mages as well. Is that so?” Morrigan inquired.  
“You would not understand.”  
“Not understand? Is it mental capacity that you believe I lack? Or are you worried I will sympathize with my so-called brethren?”  
“Take your pick.” Sten finished tersely. 

Yikes, was it getting chilly out here?

Before long the sun began to set and we decided to make camp. The battle with my tent was hard-fought, but in the end, I had to ask Alistair to assist me yet again. Maker’s breath, I hated feeling so helpless. Give me darkspawn any day over that canvas conundrum.

While Leliana prepared supper, I noticed Sten pacing, apparently quite perturbed. I went over to investigate.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked.  
“I think we should talk for a moment.”

I had no idea what to expect from this large, brown powerhouse of a creature. Maker knows I’m not much of a talker but I had to get a sense of what I was dealing with.

“Are you… alright? You were in that cage for weeks.”  
“You are concerned. No need. I am fit enough to fight.”  
“Oh I wasn’t impugning your prowess as a warrior. I just… well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

I looked around to make sure no one was near when I pulled out the sack. Yes, truly, a bribe never hurt to get on someone’s good side.

“I managed to procure some cookies while we were in Lothering. I thought you might like some.”  
“What is a ‘cookie’?” He spat the word out like it was poison.  
“You eat them. They’re sort of like… sweet crackers. Here, try one.”  
“I do not want a cookie. Is this delay needful? There are darkspawn to be fought.”  
“Oh would you just try it?!” I demanded and held one up in front of his face. You try and do something nice… sheesh. He popped it into his mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Now it was his turn to look around and make sure no one was near.

“Give me the sack.” He demanded in a whisper. I cracked a slight smile, handed him the cookies, and sauntered back over to the campfire.

Over supper, Leliana regaled us with some of her tales from her days in Orlais. They were fascinating and it was almost like being back home in my library reading. I do so love a good story. The bard, the Qunari, the mage, the Grey Wardens, and the Mabari—we were a motley crew, but I was slowly beginning to think things could be a lot worse. I saw each of them as a puzzle of sorts, and piece by tiny piece, I was starting to put it together.

I dreaded going to sleep that night. The nightmares were merciless and somehow, tonight’s was worse than the last one. This time there was a huge, beastly dragon with purple scales that breathed sour fire—when I awoke I could still smell the sulfur. A true harbinger of death and desolation, its roar so deafening I checked my ears for blood upon waking. Yep, sleep so wasn't happening. So, once again, out to the fire I went.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Alistair greeted me. I smiled softly in acknowledgment. “More nightmares?” He asked as he held his blanket open for me. 

I just nodded as I sat down beside him, closing the blanket around me as I had the night before.

“It does get better. I promise."

"You don't have to lie to me, Alistair. I'm no stranger to suffering." I wasn't looking for pity. I just wanted to explain that he didn't have to handle me with kid gloves. I could take care of myself. 

"Who are you, Scarlett?"

"We've been traveling together for a little while now. Surely you can answer that yourself."

"I know but, I mean, who are you really?"

"I don't know how to answer that, Alistair. Does anyone know who they really are?" 

"Whoa, don't get all philosophical on me. I’ve just been thinking... We’ve already been through quite a bit together and I don’t even know your full name.”  
“I don’t believe Duncan didn’t tell you anything about me.”  
“Yes, well, Duncan typically liked to play things… pretty close to the chest.” His face grew sullen as his thoughts fell to his fallen comrades.  
“Alistair, about Duncan…”  
“You don’t have to do that. I know you didn’t know him as long as I did.”  
“He was like a father to you. I understand. Probably better than you realize.”  
“I should have handled it better after. Especially with the Blight and all we’re up against. I’ve been trying to get back to my old self but it’s… difficult. I’m sorry.”  
“There’s no need to apologize.”  
“I’d like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe when this is all done, if we’re still alive. I don’t think he had any family to speak of.”  
“He had you.” I offered gently.  
“I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid but, part of me wishes I was with him. In the battle. I feel like I abandoned him.”  
“It doesn’t sound stupid, trust me.”  
“Of course, I’d be dead then, wouldn’t I? It’s not like that would make him happier.”  
“It’s hard to keep that in mind when all you keep seeing over and over again is the terrified looks in their eyes before they met their end.”  
“They? Who is they? Have you had someone close to you die? Not that I mean to pry, I’m just…”

I let out a large sigh and hung my head. Well, I guess now was as good a time as any.

“My name is Scarlett Cousland. My father was Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever. Right before I arrived at Ostagar, a man named Rendon Howe and his men laid siege to our estate. My father was mortally wounded when my mother and I found him. My mother opted to stay with him until the end. Duncan dragged me away from them and my home to save my life. I… I feel like I abandoned them, too.” I tried to channel Morrigan and retell the events as callously as I could, but warm tears streamed down my face despite my best efforts.

“Merciful Andraste… I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so so sorry.”

I nodded in acknowledgement and wiped my eyes on my sleeve.

“Yes you… didn’t exactly catch me at my best when we first met,” I admitted. “Not that I’m much better off now. I’m just… trying to take things one day at a time.”  
“Of course. Well… thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little.”

I didn’t know what to say anymore so I just remained silent for awhile and stared into the flames dancing before me.

“Scarlett Cousland, eh?” He inquired after a few moments passed and I managed to regain my composure. “I like it. Is there a middle name that goes with that?”

I began to open my mouth and respond but he stopped me.

“Wait wait wait, don’t tell me! Let me see if I can guess.”  
“Oh, this should be good.”  
“Rachel?”

I shook my head.

“Mildred?”

I shook my head again.

“Okay, okay, what does it start with?”  
“A.” was all I offered. “You’re not going to guess it.”  
“Oh ye of little faith! Anne? Amy? Alice?”  
“Do you concede, sir?” I smirked.  
“Alright, alright. What is it?”  
“Amaryllis.”  
“Oh come on! That was my very next guess!”

I glared at him incredulously.

“Okay, you’re right. Never would have gotten it.” He let out a slight chuckle.  
“I tried to warn you…”  
“Scarlett Amaryllis Cousland… I know you’re very against the whole hero thing, but you sure do sound like one.”  
I gave him a bright smile. Little reassurances went a long way nowadays. “What about you?” I inquired. “What’s your full name?”  
“Well…” he began.


	5. The Broken Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett comes to find the Circle in a state of severe disrepair as a blood mage has gone rogue and loosed a bunch of demons. She and her team work to restore order, but soon fall prey to a sloth demon's spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Let’s see, how do I explain this…” He thought for a moment. “Alright, the blunt approach it is. I’m a bastard, and before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind.”  
“I should hope you know me well enough by now to recognize I don’t go for low-hanging fruit,” I defended. I recognize my humor could get a bit dry at times but come on! That one was too easy.  
“Right, right. I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, my mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn’t my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head. He was good to me, and he didn’t have to be. I respect the man and I don’t blame him anymore for sending me off to the chantry once I was old enough.”  
“‘Anymore’… meaning you did blame him at the time, I take it?”  
“I was young and resentful and not very pious. Of course I blamed him. I remember screaming at him like a little child… well, I was a child so I doubt he was surprised… Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him the king because it was so soon after the war but… he loved her.”

I was listening intently, which I suppose he took as his cue to continue.

“Anyhow, the new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged me as his bastard. They weren’t true and he didn’t care but, she did. Soooo off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age 10. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn’t a home to me by that point. She despised me.”  
“What an awful thing to do to a child…” I sympathized, I really did. There I was, riven with grief over the loss of my family, and then there was Alistair who didn’t know the joys a loving home could bring in the slightest. Which was worse? Having those you love more than anything ripped away from you, or never knowing that love to begin with? I honestly wasn’t sure…

“She felt threatened by my presence, I can see that now. I can’t say I blame her. She wondered if the rumors were true herself, I bet.” He paused, seeming to get lost in recollection. “I remember I had this amulet… with Andraste’s holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother’s. I remember being so furious at being sent away that I threw it against the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do.”  
“And that was that? He never saw you again?”  
“The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything and eventually, he just stopped coming.”  
“You were young, Alistair. We all do stupid things when we’re young. The best we can do is recognize those stupid things and grow from them.” I reasoned.  
“I find it hard to believe that you ever let your emotions get the better of you, even when you were little. You always seem so calm, so collected. It’s like you have these… walls surrounding you all the time.”  
“Every good fortress needs sturdy walls.”  
“But you’re not a fortress. You’re a person.”

He had a point. I was very partial to my walls. They kept me thinking clearly. They kept me safe. When I lost my parents, it felt like someone had catapulted several massive boulders against my so carefully fortified barriers. Naturally, in the days since, I’d been working to rebuild them so they’d be even taller, larger, stronger. But little by little, whether I was ready to admit this to myself or not, Alistair was scaling them.

“Anyway, that’s the story. Not much more to it, really.” I nodded but I got the sense there was more to this story than he was letting on. Not once did he mention his real father—only that Eamon wasn’t him. I didn’t want to press him so I let it go. For now.

“We should try to get some rest,” I suggested. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
“Right, of course. Goodnight.”

…

After what seemed like an eternity of—you guessed it—more walking, we finally reached the Lake Calenhad Docks.

“Morrigan, I need to speak with you.” I said in my most commanding tone as I led her away from the rest of the group.  
“What is it?” she asked once we were out of earshot of the others.  
“I don’t mean to point out the obvious here, but we’re about to enter the Circle Tower, crawling with Templars, and you are an apostate.”  
“Your point?”  
“I think I saw an inn nearby. You should stay in it while we go.”  
“Do you really think a few Templars can scare me? I should think you know I can handle myself quite well.”  
“No, I don’t think that. I think this is a delicate situation and we have a lot riding on this and I don’t need any added complications.”  
“A complication, am I? Perhaps I should have just stayed in the Wilds, then. I would not dream of placing you in a vexing predicament on my account.” I had to hand it to her. The woman had sarcasm down to a T.   
“Please don’t take this personally. I’m just trying to do what I think is best here. You wanted me to lead. Here it is. This is me leading.”  
“Fine, but if I stay, the Qunari stays as well.”  
“…Why?” I stared at her skeptically.  
“Because I enjoy his company. Making him uncomfortable is one of the very few joys I’ve encountered since I joined up for this ridiculous cause.”  
“You know, I thought I heard you flirting with him before, but I just chalked it up to my lack of sleep and an overactive imagination…”  
She just let a slow, wide grin play across her lips and Maker preserve me, it was terrifying.  
“Do we have an accord?” she asked deviously.

I really didn’t want to lose another companion going into this, but between Alistair and myself, I supposed we had enough heavy-hitters. Leliana could hold her own as well. Though her fighting style was a lot different from mine and Alistair's, it was still quite effective. We had reach, strength, and fortitude. She had speed, flexibility, and stealth. We’d be fine, right? ...Right?

“Alright, deal. But you have to explain to him why he’s not joining us.”  
“Oh, with pleasure.” And she went over to the Qunari, making pains to flirtatiously touch his arm here and there as she spoke to him, giggle girlishly, bat her eyelashes, the whole nine yards. I just shook my head. That whole thing was one puzzle I had no desire to solve. 

As we made our way down the hill, Morrigan, Sten, and Meatball went left into The Spoiled Princess—I swear to the Maker, that was really what the place was called—and Alistair, Leliana, and myself went straight onto the jetty. There we were rudely greeted by a Templar named Carroll. He said the Circle was closed off to any visitors. I told him my patience was running thin and that was all it took for him to back down and ferry us to the tower. Easy peasy.

Upon entering the tower, I soon learned that nothing else about this quest was going to be remotely easy. We met with Knight Commander Gregoir and he explained a dire situation—the tower had been overrun by demons and abominations. He couldn’t entirely explain what had happened, but he seemed certain that everyone in the tower was dead and had called on the Denerim chantry to invoke something called the Rite of Annulment, which would apparently give Templars sanction to kill everything in the tower. Call me crazy, but I was not comfortable with just taking him at his word.

“Mages are not helpless,” I offered. “I am certain some yet draw breath. We must find them before this Rite comes to pass.”  
“Should we really take this chance?” Alistair inquired. “Mages are extremely susceptible to possession.”  
“I’m sorry, but I can’t sit idly by and wait for possibly innocent people to be exterminated. I have to do something. At the very least, I have to try. Besides, I’ll have a former almost-templar at my side if things get out of hand. Lady Luck smiles upon us yet again.” I said dryly. Alistair opted to let it go. 

Gregoir informed us that the only way he would call the whole thing off was if he heard from First Enchanter Irving himself that the tower was safe, who may or may not have already been killed. Splendid. This just kept getting better and better.

We went through those impossibly huge double doors and were ready to take on whatever came our way. Before long we came upon a room with a strange blue glow emanating from the crack beneath the door. I was hesitant to open it but, you know, nothing ventured nothing gained.

When we entered the room I saw an elderly mage—hmm… there was something strangely familiar about her—with a few apprentices. She was occupied with trying to take down a demon—and made quick work of it, I might add—and had constructed some kind of a magical defensive barrier to keep anything else from getting through.

“Stop right there! Take another step and I swear I will strike you down where you stand!” she demanded.  
“Whoa, okay. Calm down. We mean you no harm.” I assured her.  
“I am Wynne, mage of the Circle, and these children are under my protection. Who are you? Speak quickly. I’ll have no games.”

Wynne… Wynne… I know I’ve heard that name before. Oh! Eureka!

“Wynne, it’s good to see you again. Do you remember me? We spoke briefly at Ostagar. I’m a Grey Warden.” I sounded as chummy as I possibly could. Tensions were running high and the last thing I needed was a mage with an itchy trigger finger.

“I’ve spoken with many people in my time, child, and I’m afraid I’ve tried very hard to forget anything that happened at Ostagar.”  
“Yes, well, not all of us have that luxury.” Alistair muttered, clearly irritated.  
“Wynne, I’m here trying to help. I spoke with Gregoir and he says the Rite of Annulment is on the way. I do not want that to come to pass. Please, work with me here.” I pleaded.

She went on to explain that the Circle had experienced something of a revolt led by a mage named Uldred. She said that she was not ready to lose the Circle to one man’s pride and stupidity, and so she removed the barrier and joined us in the fight to save it.

We took it upon ourselves to explore every nook and cranny in that tower; no stone was left unturned, no chest left unopened (thanks to Leliana's impressive lock-picking skills). Oddly enough, I found an old black book that, upon reading an inscription inside the cover, I learned had belonged to Flemeth. I thought the item might interest Morrigan so I placed it in my pack.

We saw some disturbing things in that tower as we were up against not only demons and abominations, but blood mages were in the mix as well. I’m not an unreasonable person. I’d hoped some could be reasoned with, but they attacked us on sight every single time. We also had possessed Templars to contend with. I so wished they could have been saved but there’s a time for delicate mediation and a time for action. The situations we encountered in the tower always seemed to call for the latter. Fighting darkspawn was easy. You knew they were evil, through and through. When it’s a person, or something that used to be a person, at the other end of your pointed blade… that’s something entirely different.

As we progressed we came across a whole host of nasty things, but it was generally nothing we couldn’t handle. That is, until we reached the fourth floor. We ran into a sloth demon and despite our best tries to fight it, all of us succumbed to his spell. I traversed the Fade. Let me say that again: I. Traversed. The. Fade. Maker's breath, I lived it and I still don't quite believe it. It was the most disconcerting experience I have ever faced in my life... well... up until that point, at least. I struggled and I searched and I transformed and I kept fighting but I just seemed to keep going around in circles. Eventually, though, I came across my companions.

Alistair dreamt he was with his sister—I know, I didn’t know that was a thing either. Once again, it made me wonder what else he neglected to mention the other night when we were talking about his past. After some gentle nudging, I made him realize it was all a dream and he disappeared.

Leliana, ever the devout one, I found with the Revered Mother deep in prayer. Eventually I convinced her, too, that this was all a dream, and *poof* she was gone.

Wynne… Wynne’s dream was tough. Her fellow mages lay at her feet, dead, and she was wracked with guilt that she did not stop it. I knew all too well how that feels. Even so, eventually I made her understand where we were.

When we reunited in the Fade, we beat the sloth demon and thank the Maker, we woke up. I was so happy to be out of that place I almost kissed the stone on the ground. To say I was exhausted would be the understatement of the year, but we had to go on. The corpses of mages and Templars littering the ground, the blood staining the stone floors and walls, the demons and skeletons and Maker knows what else attacking us at every turn—that was motivation enough to find this Uldred and repay him in kind. That man was going to pay, and pay dearly. 

On our way to find him, we ran into a young Templar, probably around Alistair's age, wracked with fear and seemingly in agony. His fingers were entwined into his blond curls, pulling out chunks of them when he wasn't beating his fists against his skull, begging the voices to stop. His lips were cracked and dry, his cheeks sunken and gray. Merciful Andraste, how long had they been torturing this poor man? 

"Are you all right?" I asked. Stupid, I know. He obviously wasn't. Sometimes words fail even me. 

"The boy is exhausted. And this cage... I've never seen anything like it." Wynne explained. "Rest easy. Help is here." 

He dropped to his knees and rocked back and forth, desperate to cling to his sanity. 

"Enough visions! If anything in you is human, please, kill me now and stop this game." 

"He's delirious. He's been tortured and has probably been denied food and water. I can tell." Leliana observed. "Here, I have a skin of—" she began to approach him with some water but he recoiled immediately. 

"Don't touch me. Stay away! Filthy blood mages! Getting in my head... I. Will. Not. Break! I'd rather die!" 

"Calm down. You're safe now." I offered, but he was not having it. He was angry, and I couldn't blame him one bit. He was out for blood; he wanted revenge for the wrong that had been done to him, to his fellow Templars—a feeling I had come to know all too well. He wouldn't rest until every single mage in that tower was dead. I felt terrible, but I was suddenly happy he was in a cage. The look of pure hatred in his eyes was enough to send a shiver down my spine. And although he appeared quite weak, it wasn't much of a stretch to see he could hold his own in a fight. If he were set free in his current state, it could spell a whole lot of trouble for our magic-wielding friends. We each took turns trying to talk him down, to make him see reason, but nothing worked. 

I turned around to whisper to Wynne. 

"I want to get him help, but I'm honestly a little afraid of what he might do once he's set free." I explained. 

"Uldred is our goal. Once he falls, the barrier will come down. Look at him, Warden. He's not a threat to anyone. Not in his current state." 

"Hate has power, Wynne. You'd be surprised what men are capable of when blind rage is their driving force." 

"Then you'll just have to trust me. I know Cullen. He's a good man. He'll remember that once this is all over." 

I turned back to the broken Templar and said, "Stay safe. This will all be over soon." 

He let out a harsh laugh. "No one ever listens. Not until it's far too late. Maker turn his gaze on you. I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all." His dark eyes narrowed and never stopped glaring at me as we took our leave to find Uldred. Maker, I hope Wynne wasn't bluffing. 

We went up another set of stairs—curse whoever thought the Circle should be housed in a bloody tower—beat Uldred to a bloody pulp, rescued Irving, and saved the day. And arguably best of all, the mages now owed us a favor. One down. Three to go.

When we went back to the ground floor to speak with Gregoir and show him Irving had survived, Cullen was standing by his side, seemingly a lot calmer and more collected. He balked when Gregoir decided to take Irving at his word and deemed the Rite of Annulment was no longer necessary, but that was it. Cullen didn't take it upon himself to become a homicidal maniac and mow down every mage in his path. I guess having a little faith in people pays off once in awhile.

Wynne opted to stay with us and see this thing through to the end, and I was grateful for her help. She was powerful to be sure, but I also welcomed the company of someone so obviously full of wisdom and experience. Maker knows I’d be needing some sagely advice in the days to come.

As we were ferried back to the pier, Carroll informed us that Gregoir had made an arrangement with the innkeeper as a thanks for our help, and we were allowed to stay there for the night free of charge. This was very happy news. After all the trials and tribulations that came with saving the tower, I just didn’t have the energy for another bout against my obstinate tent.

After supper we were shown to our rooms and Maker, did it feel good to see a real bed again. I was in the middle of removing my armor when I heard a knock on my door.

“Who is it?”  
“Your favorite almost-templar.” Alistair called back. I smirked and went to the door.  
“May I help you, young man?” I asked playfully.  
“Well, it’s just… I’ve grown accustomed to our little fireside chats, you see.”  
“Is that so?”  
“It is. But since we don’t have a fire, I figured I’d bring the next best thing.” He took a bottle of wine out from behind his back.  
“Alistair, what about the phrase “bare essentials” seems to elude you?” I wasn’t really mad, but you know, someone had to keep the boy in line.  
“I know, I know. I guess next time you’ll know better than to let me do the shopping, eh?”

I gave him an icy glare.

“Alright, well, I guess if you’re not interested…”  
I snatched the bottle from his hands. “Now now, let’s not be too hasty.”


	6. Juicy Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the nightmarish events at the Circle, Alistair and Scarlett unwind by sharing a bottle of wine and sharing their opinions on the others in the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, my first chapter with nothing but Alistair/Scarlett goodness. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

I moved out of the doorway to let him pass and opened the bottle with ease.

“You look like you’ve done that before…” he noticed, slightly shocked, slightly impressed.  
“Yes, well, being born to privilege does have its advantages. One of them is we get all the good wine.” I smirked.  
“Right, of course. Makes sense. So, I’m wondering something.” He grabbed for the bottle as he walked further into the small room.  
“Oh?” I begrudgingly handed it to him and he took a swig as I sat on the bed.  
“I’d like to know your thoughts about some of our traveling companions.”

He took a seat on the floor, despite the fact that I'd left some room for him next to me on the bed—ever the gentleman. Yes, I was aware that simply being alone in a room with a person of the opposite sex would be considered quite improper by most people's standards. I even thought about keeping the door open so anyone who might pass by would know we were just two friends having a chat at a comfortable distance from one another. But you know what? Screw it. Let them talk. I was pretty much over playing the role of the highborn young lady living her life under a magnifying glass. I was a Grey Warden now, and that life was completely behind me. If I wanted to drink, I was going to drink. If I wanted to (gasp) talk to a boy behind closed doors, then by the Maker, I was going to do it! So there! 

“Time for juicy gossip, is it?” I snatched the bottle from him and took a swig myself. It was by no means good wine, but I honestly could not care less. It was wine, and Maker, after the day I had, I could not have been more content.

“Well, I’ve got this nefarious plan to secretly go around to each of them and tell them all of the nasty things you said. That way they’ll mutiny and I shall become the group leader! Mwahahaha!”  
“You want the job?!” I asked excitedly. “Please, do take it! You’d be doing me a huge favor.”  
“Damn. Bluff called. Seriously, though. I’ve had enough time to form my own opinions and I’m curious about yours. That’s all.”  
“Alright," I repositioned myself on the bed so I was laying on my stomach, my feet swinging back and forth in the air behind me as I rested my chin in my palms, "Ask away.”  
“What about Sten? The way he looks at me with those eyes… Creepy. And he’s so quiet for someone so big.”  
“You're right. Tall, quiet people are the worst. We should just do away with the lot of them.” I rolled my eyes.  
“Hey, that’s not fair! I mean, I’ve noticed you’re rather tall for a woman but… well… I like it.”  
“You… like it?” I asked, not quite sure of how to take the admission.  
“Gah, you’re changing the subject. What do you think of him?”  
“Well, I honestly can’t find any fault with either of those qualities, having them myself.”  
“I know, I know. But the more I talk to him, the more it seems his philosophy is not so vile as the chantry describes it. It’s an odd thing to think. And yet, he killed all those people. He doesn’t even deny it.” He took a large swig from the bottle.  
“Well, I’d be lying if I said that didn’t bother me. And trying to get him to open up about anything is… a challenge. But he’s not some mindless killer. I’m sure he had his reasons and he does seem to regret it… in his way.”  
“Hmm… I suppose. What about Leliana? Is she crazy? Or do you really believe in her ‘vision’?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I’m not the most pious person myself, but… I believe she believes it. I believe she’s well-intentioned. Can’t ask for much more than that, can you?”

I took another drink and started to feel that familiar, comforting warmth from deep inside that comes with just the right amount of imbibing. Maker, I forgot how much I missed this.

“I don’t know what to make of her. If you look at her when she doesn’t see you she looks so… sad. I almost feel guilty taking her away from her old life.” Alistair admitted as he furrowed his brows in contemplation.   
“Well, no one is forcing her to be here. She is serving a cause greater than herself and she is doing it in the Maker’s name. I can’t imagine there’s anywhere else she’d rather be.”  
“What about the new one… the old lady… Wynne, was it?”  
“You can’t have possibly formed an opinion about Wynne. She hasn’t even been with us a full day yet!” I exclaimed.  
“Well, her comment about Ostagar rubbed me the wrong way. I’m sorry. But she does know healing magic. I suppose she will be useful.”  
“People deal with things in different ways, Alistair. Some cling to memories. Some want nothing more than to forget. Some want a shoulder to cry on. Some bottle things up inside. It’s all very personal.”  
“I guess that's true. I mean, I've always been pretty transparent."

"You don't say..." I teased.

"Yeah yeah yeah. So I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. Sue me." He defended as he folded his arms.

"There's nothing wrong with being up front about your feelings, Alistair. Some people are just... not that way. Myself included." 

He paused for a moment. "...How did you manage to cope with what happened at Highever? I mean... I was with you for days before you even said anything about what happened.”

My face fell and a sadness washed over me, but somehow, the cut felt a little less deep than it had in moments past. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the company. Who can say for sure?

“I… went numb. I completely shut down.”  
“How does the saying go again? It’s better to feel pain than nothing at all?”  
“Mmm…” I nodded. “Try it. I can all but guarantee you’ll choose the latter.”  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

I took the bottle and guzzled about a third of it down.

“Well, I’m sure that will help.” I grinned. “So, can I ask you something now?”  
“Oooh color me intrigued. What do you want to know?”  
“If you grew up in the chantry… have you never…” Oh yeah, I was going there. We were in desperate need of a lighter subject and there’s nothing quite like a little liquid courage to make you bold.  
“…Never… never what? Had a good pair of shoes?”  
“Oh, you know what I mean.” I urged.  
“I’m not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Eaten jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?”

I get it. He wasn’t going to let me get away with asking so daring a question easily. Fine. I could play along.

“Yes, Alistair, that’s it. I simply cannot go another day without knowing whether you’ve licked a lamppost in winter. Please don’t keep me in suspense any longer. It’s cruel.”  
“Well, you tell me. Have you ever lllllicked a llllllllamppost in winter?”

The way he enunciated every syllable made it sound like he asked me the most obscene question ever conceived. I fought the urge to blush with everything I could muster. Thankfully, I won that battle.

“I asked you first.” I countered.  
“Fine. Fine. Ruin my fun. I myself have never done it… that… Not that I haven’t thought about it of course but… you know…”  
“...What? The opportunity just never presented itself?”  
“Well, living in the chantry is… not exactly a life for rambunctious young boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful young ladies such as yourself. That’s not so bad, is it?”

The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, so nonchalant, that I wasn't entirely sure I'd heard him right. Did he just call me beautiful? Was I hearing things? I suppose I could ask him, but Maker what if I misheard? Ugh. Just thinking about how that would play out made me cringe. Hard. I opted not to bring it up and just answer his question. "No, it's not bad."  

"Good. I mean, you'd... want a gentleman to court you, wouldn't you? If... if you were to be courted by someone, that is." He stammered and now it was his turn to blush. What in the Maker's name was happening?! 

"Purely hypothetically, you mean... right?" I clarified, completely unsure of where this conversation was going. 

He cleared his throat nervously. "Sure. Hypothetically. Right. Er... You know what? Don't answer that. We're getting too far afield of the original question. Back to lamppost licking. Are you going to tell me?” He reverted back to the original subject. Thank the Maker for small miracles. 

“Hmm… No. No, I don’t think I will.” I know I was being cheeky, but a woman's heart is an ocean of secrets, and just now, I wasn't comfortable with revealing them.   
His jaw dropped. “That’s… I… You tricked me!”  
“I know. I’m terrible, aren’t I?” I smirked and took another swig, the tension slowly leaving my body as the conversation was steered back into safer territory.  
“Wait, wait, back up. There’s one person I completely forgot to ask you about. She also happens to be my most favorite person in all Thedas. Morrigan…”

Greeeeaaat. This should be a fun one.

“Oh, you've already made your feelings on Morrigan abundantly clear, Alistair.”  
“Do you trust her? I mean, think about it. Flemeth could have sent her with us for some reason other than she said.”  
“No, to be perfectly blunt, I don’t trust her. Not yet. I don’t really trust anyone.”  
“...No one?” He looked genuinely hurt.  
“Oh, no, please… don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean… I’m just not a very trusting person. It’s my nature. Trust is something that needs to be earned and I just haven’t spent enough time with anyone for that to really come to fruition yet.”  
“I see.” He cast his eyes down, his face crestfallen and defeated. Maybe 100% honesty was not always the best policy.  
“I do believe…” I began in an attempt to lighten the mood, “we’re out of wine. I should probably remedy that.”  
“Oh? What happened to the ‘bare essentials’?”  
“I’m being a good leader. Sometimes wine is absolutely essential for morale, wouldn’t you say?” I gave him a smile and went downstairs to get some more.

When I came back his dejected expression had not changed. I handed him the bottle and sat back down beside him on the floor.

“Alistair, listen... Remember the other night when you said it was like I had… walls around me?”

He nodded.

“Well, I do. Always have. Probably always will. After all that’s happened to me recently I… don’t see them coming down anytime soon. But please know that of all the places I could be right now, I can think of nowhere better than right here, sharing a bottle of wine with you.” I smiled as brightly as I could manage and hoped that was enough to make him feel better. Please, please let that be enough.  
“You know, I was just thinking something similar. Given the circumstances, things could have been so much worse. Of all the Grey Wardens I could have been stuck with, I’m glad you’re you… Umm... That… sounded better in my head.”

He kept struggling with the cork, pulling and prying and digging but it just would not budge. I could have rescued him, of course, but where’s the fun in that?

Eventually he managed to pop it out but the bottle went flying and its contents spilled all over him. I laughed so hard I was crying.

“Really?! All this effort spent to make you laugh since I met you and all it took was my own clumsiness?!”  
“I'm sorry, I… Oh Maker…” I wiped the tears from my eyes and couldn’t finish my sentence without bursting into another fit of giggles. He was completely covered. It was on his face, in his hair, all over his clothes, everywhere. He looked so ridiculous. In hindsight it really wasn’t all that funny, but I think my body was just overjoyed to have some sort of release from alternating states of grief, fear, and agony.

He stood up and went over to the water pitcher to try and salvage his poor tunic and clean himself up. When I regained my composure, I got up and walked over to him to offer whatever help I could. I wet a rag and ran it gently over his forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, the light patch of hair on his chin, then over the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to get the stains out.

“Thanks. You have a great laugh, you know. You should really do it more often.”

There was no stopping it this time. I blushed. Ugh. One of the worst things about being shy and fair-skinned is how easily you can be made to blush. And in that moment, as the damp cloth of his shirt clung to his skin, as the candlelight played off his sharp jaw and cheekbones and I looked into the flecks of green shining through his otherwise honey-colored eyes, I noticed Alistair… as a man. Probably for the first time since I’d met him.

“I probably wouldn’t be saying this if I wasn’t a bit tipsy but, has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” Merciful Andraste, what had just come out of my mouth?! Did I seriously just ask him that?  
“Not unless they wanted a favor… Well, there was that one time in Denerim but those women were… heh… not like you. …Why? Is this your way of telling me you think I’m handsome?”  
“Oh, don’t get cocky. There’ll be no living with you.” I cracked a slow smile. He gave me a warm, wide grin back.  
“So, is this the part where I… get to say the same?”  
“Heh, no. I release you from any obligation of having to return my compliment. Probably best we just forget I said anything. Sorry. The wine went straight to my head, it seems.”  
“But I… want to say the same.” He admitted softly as he took a step closer to me, his intense eyes never leaving mine. 

Aaaaaand I felt my cheeks grow even redder. Abort! Abort!

“Okay, Alistair. Go ahead. Tell me how handsome I am.” I batted my eyelashes his way and gave him a sly smile. Yep, when in doubt, defuse an awkward situation with wry sarcasm.  
“Very funny. Very very funny. You can’t always deflect everything with a joke, you know.”

I had to let out a big laugh at that one.

“Oh, that's rich coming from you. Well, this has been fun but I fear I’m beginning to lose control of my faculties so, we should probably call it a night.”   
“I think I’d like to see that. You lose control, I mean. Just once. See you let that hair down and throw caution to the wind.”  
I tucked a loose strand of hair into my braid and let out another slight chuckle. “Not bloody likely.”  
“Hmm…” he smiled. “We’ll see. I told you I never shy away from a challenge.” The look in his eyes as he said it made me shiver, but in a totally thrilling way. I felt goosebumps raise all over my body and the butterflies returned to my stomach full force just from that slightly devious, slightly charming, completely irresistible look alone. This… this was bad.

I walked over to the door and held it open for him as he took his leave. 

“Goodnight, Alistair.”  
“Goodnight, my lady.”


	7. The Green-Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy rears its ugly head as the relationships of the "inner circle" grow increasingly complicated, especially with the addition of an unexpected new companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks in advance for your comments and kudos! Happy reading!

I didn’t even remember dreaming that night. I’m sure I did and I’m sure it was just as horrible as ever, but for some reason, the dream just seemed to vanish from my mind. Thank goodness for small miracles, eh? I probably could have slept forever, but I awoke to yet another knock on my door. I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed to see who it was.

“Morrigan, what a pleasant surprise.” I greeted sourly.  
“Quite. I do not mean to intrude but I do believe there was something we needed to accomplish today… What was it…” she tapped her temple in feigned contemplation. “Oh yes, stopping a civil war and saving the world from assured catastrophe, I believe it was.”  
“Yes, I’m well aware. Thank you. I apologize for oversleeping.”  
“Well, your exertions with Alistair last night were no doubt exhausting.” Oh no she did not.  
“…Excuse me?” I didn’t even attempt to hide the contempt on my face.  
“Oh do not act so shocked. I am sure all of Thedas could hear there was something going on.”  
“Morrigan, not that I owe you an explanation in any way, shape, or form, but absolutely nothing happened last night.”  
“Of course not.” She rolled her eyes.

I honestly thought about keeping the grimoire for myself. Or burning it. She was being a complete bitch and for the life of me I could not understand why. Unless…

“Are you… jealous?” I asked. She shot me a look so cold I almost felt like I’d been stabbed.  
“Do not be ridiculous! Just because you clearly have horrible taste in the company you keep, do not project that onto me.”  
“Hmm… methinks the lady doth protest too much.” I smirked. She turned around in a huff and began to leave.  
“Morrigan…” I called. You’re a leader, Scarlett, albeit a reluctant one. You need to act like it. You can’t stoop to her level. You need to hold yourself to a higher standard for the sake of everyone. I ran to fetch the book from my bag as she turned around.

“I found this while we were fighting our way through the Circle. I thought it might be of particular interest to you.”

“You… found Flemeth’s grimoire? I had wondered if it might be recoverable but I had yet to speak of it to you. How fortunate that you found it on your own! You have my thanks! I will begin study of the tome immediately.” She seemed genuinely excited and grateful; emotions, I’d imagine, quite foreign to Morrigan.

“You’re welcome.” was all I could say in return. Alright, I was still a bit peeved. Sue me.  
“I do not intend to squander this opportunity to learn more than Flemeth wished me to know. This should be… interesting.” She clutched the book to her chest and headed out of the room, the slightest of springs in her step. Weird.

I washed up, grabbed my things, and went to gather the others so we could begin the journey to Redcliffe.

And so we began to walk. And then we did more walking. And then, just to shake things up, we walked some more. Sten was in the back, as per usual, with Wynne right in front of him. Alistair gave up his usual position directly behind me and Meatball and Morrigan replaced him, clearly invested in the contents of the grimoire and barely looking where she was going. I’m sure he thought I was out of earshot, but I could hear everything he was saying to Leliana. Poor sod.

“So… you’re female, Leliana, right?” he asked at a slightly lower volume than usual.  
“I am?” she feigned surprise. “That’s news. When did that happen?”  
“I just… wanted some advice. What should I do if… if I think a woman is special and—”  
“You want to woo her? Here’s a good tip: You shouldn’t question her about her femaleness.”  
“Alright yes, good point.”  
“Why do you ask? Are you afraid things will not proceed naturally?”  
“Why would they? Especially when I do things like ask women if they’re female.”  
“It adds to your charm, Alistair. You are a little… awkward. It is endearing.”

Was she… She was. She was flirting with him. First Morrigan’s little display this morning and now this. Very interesting.

“So I should be awkward? Didn’t you just say not to do things like that?”  
“Just be yourself. You do know how to do that, don’t you?”  
“Alright, forget I asked.”

Leliana was pretty in an understated sort of way. Rich auburn hair, bright blue eyes, slender, reflexes like a cat—plus, a checkered past full of mystery and intrigue. I could see her appeal. Morrigan was gorgeous—I don’t know a better way to say it. Those intense yellow eyes, milky skin, raven hair, that sensual voice. If I didn’t know her personality was so… harsh, I suppose is the most delicate way to put it… I would absolutely envy everything about her. But Alistair and Morrigan seemed to hate each other... Alright, I admit, stranger things have happened. All that hate could just be pent up sexual tension. Or, that little conversation with Leliana might have been Alistair’s roundabout way of confessing to her that he likes her. A little heavy-handed, perhaps, but it could be interpreted that way. Which one was he referring to, I wonder…

And before I knew what hit me, I felt little pangs of jealousy invade my heart. Whoa, where did that come from? Sure, we shared a few… moments… last night, but I wasn’t going to delude myself into thinking that alcohol wasn’t a serious factor in those somewhat flirtatious interactions. Whatever was developing among my little group of lovesick cohorts, I knew it was going to be complicated. I loathed complicated.

About halfway into the day’s journey, we were stopped by a frantic woman begging for our help after an attack on her wagon. I didn’t like it. She looked too clean, hardly a wrinkle in her clothes, not a single hair out of place—no signs of a struggle whatsoever. Leliana echoed my silent observations and told us to be on our guard. Smart girl.

And, naturally, we walked into a trap. Assassins sprung up from cover one by one, and before we had the chance to really gauge what was happening, a slight elf with tattooed, olive-toned skin and long blond hair gave the signal for them to attack.

We fought hard. Wynne and Morrigan stayed back casting their spells, along with Leliana who was shooting one arrow after another at incredible speed. Alistair, Sten, Meatball, and myself dove right in, checking people left and right, sinking our blades (or teeth, in Meatball’s case) into anyone who was standing in our way. Guilt could wait until later. Right now there was no time to do anything but counter and parry as we were faced with attack after ruthless attack. Eventually, nothing was left except their corpses littering the ground.

Or so I thought. Then I heard… moaning.

“Unnnnggghh. What? I… ooohhh… I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be.”

He had a thick accent. Antivan. Definitely Antivan. Paying attention during my tutoring sessions and eavesdropping during my parents' many visits with foreign dignitaries had come in handy for once.

“But, I see you haven’t killed me yet…”  
“I have some questions.” I explained. I needed to know what this was and most importantly, who sent him. Killing him before I could get answers seemed like a complete waste.  
“Ah! So I’m to be interrogated? Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran. Zev, to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”  
“The Antivan Crows?” Alistair asked.  
“An order of assassins,” I explained.  
“Very good. We’re not heard of much around here but where I come from, we’re rather infamous.”  
“Who hired you?” I demanded. My sword was still unsheathed and I was more than ready to use it to get what I wanted to know out of him.  
“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that’s it.”  
“Ah, so that’s where your loyalties lie.” Leliana chimed in.  
“No, this is not personal. I was contracted to perform a service. Nothing more.”  
“And now that you’ve failed at performing this… service?” I spat the word at him.  
“Well, that is between Loghain and the Crows. And the Crows and myself.”  
“So you just give up the name of the person who hired you… just like that…” Alistair questioned.  
Zevran chuckled. “Why not? I wasn’t paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely.”

Alistair and I just looked at each other, hardly believing we were getting answers out of him this easily.

“As it is, if you’re done with the interrogation, I’ve a proposal for you. If you’re of a mind.”  
“I’m really not interested in anything you could possibly have to offer.” I shot him down. Alistair seemed quite happy with that response. Morrigan, however…  
“Perhaps we should hear this proposal. We could always take his life afterward if it is not to our liking.”  
I sighed. “Fine. Speak.”  
“Well, here’s the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. If you don’t kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So, let me serve you instead.”  
“Oh yes, you’ve proven to be so very loyal to your employers.” I scoffed.  
“I happen to be a very loyal person. Up until the point someone expects me to die for failing.”  
“And what’s to stop you from finishing the job later?” I asked, clearly annoyed.  
“I have nothing to gain from that, and everything to gain from remaining in your protection. Besides, while I am living, I can be of great use to you. If at some point you feel you no longer have use of me, I will be on my way.”

I wanted to kill him. I really did. But with this mammoth task ahead of us, we needed all the help we could get our hands on. I had to think practically for the sake of not just ourselves, but for everyone we were trying to save.

“I… accept your offer.” I said most hesitantly.  
“What?! We’re taking the assassin with us now? Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Alistair protested, his voice almost shrill with surprise.  
“Look, I’m not thrilled about the idea, but didn’t you mention back at Flemeth’s hut that Grey Wardens accept help wherever they can get it? He could be of use to us.”  
“Alright, alright, I see your point. Still, if there ever was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said ‘hello.’”  
“A fine plan.” Morrigan added. “But I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now on, were I you.”  
“Duly noted, Morrigan. Thanks for that.”  
Zevran got up off the ground. “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation… This I swear.” And he bowed.

As the sun began to set we found somewhere to set up camp. I was trying to give myself a pep talk when the time came to go another round one-on-one with my tent. “Okay, Scarlett, tonight is the night. You are going to overcome this thing.”

Nope. Not happening. Just as I was about to turn around to grab Alistair, the Crow appeared right in front of me.

“Allow me.” He offered. I just stepped aside and he had the thing up before you could say Antiva. “There. All done.”  
“I… thanks, I guess.”  
“Oh you are most welcome.”

I waited for him to leave and go about his business. He never did. Great. Now I’d have to make small talk. We all know how much I enjoy that.

“You um… seemed almost eager to leave the Crows behind.” I offered.  
“Well now… I suppose that’s fair. Being an assassin is a living, as far as these things go. I was simply never given an opportunity to choose another way. So, if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?”  
“What would you rather do?”  
“Now that you mention it, I am not entirely certain. I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased, for three sovereigns, I’m told. That’s what they do, the Crows. Buy their slaves young, raise them to know nothing else but murder, and if you do poorly in your training, you die.”

I was sorry to hear it. I really was. No one should ever be sold into bondage. But I just… couldn’t bring myself to pretend all was forgiven.

“That sounds awful,” was all I could offer.  
“Oh, I don’t know about that. The crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the… benefits.”  
“Benefits?” As soon as I asked I regretted it.  
“Sure. Wealth… and the company of beautiful, long-legged women, such as yourself.”

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“…Are you seriously hitting on me the same day you tried to murder me?”  
“Does that offend you?” he posed.  
“Oh, I don’t know. Attempted murder, especially my own, doesn’t score someone a whole lot of points in my book.” I retorted.  
“As I said before, it was nothing personal. If I see a beautiful woman, I am going to tell her so. Nothing more.”  
“Right. Well, thanks for your help with the tent. I’m going to go feed Meatball.” He bowed his head in acknowledgment and off I went.

Alistair was already there with him as I slowly made my way over.

“Do you really know what’s going on here? The Blight, the civil war… I really wonder how much of it you understand…”

Meatball just wagged his tail happily.

“We’re all special. Big parts to play. Even you. Especially you. You guard one of the most important people—”  
He barked, but I don’t think it was really in reply to Alistair’s question. I knew that bark all too well.

“What?” Alistair asked.  
He barked some more, excitedly.  
“You want to play? But I’m talking. Why doesn’t anyone want to hear me talk?”

I closed the distance between myself and the boys after their heart-to-heart was through and dropped some food in front of the Mabari.

“So,” Alistair began, “I see you’ve found someone else to help with that miserable tent of yours.” He sounded a little… defensive.  
“Surely you were getting tired of me relying on you all the time.”  
“Not really. What did he want, anyway? I saw you talking.”  
“Nothing. I just asked him why he seemed to be so eager to leave the Crows.”  
“Really? There seemed to be more to it than that. I saw the way he was looking at you…”  
“Alistair… are you… jealous?” I asked, the little bit of shock and surprise painfully apparent in my tone.  
“Maybe. A little. After what he pulled you can’t possibly trust him. …Do you? Trust him, I mean.”  
“Certainly not. At this point I’m just… trying to keep an open mind. Everyone deserves a second chance. Especially a former slave.”  
“I just don’t like him. I’m sorry.” He said as he crossed his arms in a huff. He really was jealous. It was kind of cute, I had to admit.  
“I think you’re really having a problem with no longer being the only rooster in the henhouse.”  
“You have such an odd way of speaking sometimes…”  
“Yeah, I know. I can’t help it.”  
“Sten’s been here for awhile now. So there goes that theory.”  
“Sten is… well he’s… not a rooster… per se.”  
“Riiiiight. Whatever. You talk with who you like.”  
“I think I will.” I paused. “I’ll meet you by the fire in a few hours.” I gave him my warmest smile and I noticed his entire disposition got a whole lot brighter.  
“It’s a date.” He grinned back.


	8. Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redcliffe proves to be full of surprises as Alistair reveals his heritage and Bann Teagan explains the village is plagued with ceaseless attacks by the undead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated. Thanks for reading!
> 
> UPDATE: I added a scene (7:30 pm EST on 6/30) where the Warden goes to find Bevin for your added reading pleasure. Enjoy!

Before long we arrived at Redcliffe, and I was not expecting good news. Alistair seemed to get more and more tense the closer we got to our destination. When we arrived, he was wringing his hands and pacing back and forth. It was… worrisome.

“Look, can we talk for a moment?” He grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, a look somewhere between dread and remorse painfully apparent in his tired eyes. He must not have slept a wink last night. “I need to tell you something. I um… probably should have told you earlier.”  
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”  
“I don’t know… I doubt it. I’ve never liked it, that’s for sure.” He nervously ran his fingers through his hair, then immediately went back to fidgeting. I grabbed his hands with the hopes of calming him down.  
“Alistair, it’s okay. You can tell me.” My eyes found his and I hoped my sincerity was shining through enough to reassure him.  
“Alright, here goes: You remember I told you how Arl Eamon raised me. That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in.”  
“Yes, I do remember that.” Ahhh… here comes that other shoe I’ve been expecting to drop any day now.  
“The reason he did that was because… well… because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my half-brother, I suppose.”

My eyes grew wide as saucers and I let go of his hands immediately as soon as the words left his mouth, but I honestly don’t know why I was so taken aback. There was always something rather… familiar about Alistair from the moment I first met him. Now that I had this little piece of the puzzle, I could see he was almost the spit of the former king. The old me would’ve put two and two together a lot sooner. I guess losing everything and everyone you love right before you're charged with saving the world does nothing to enhance your powers of observation.

“I knew you were holding back when it came to what you knew about your father. I guess I just wasn’t expecting… this.”  
“I would have told you but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan’s rule and so they kept me secret. I’ve never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fight because of it. I didn’t want you to know for as long as possible. I’m sorry.”

I considered his words for a moment and the analytical side of my thoughts took precedent over the emotional side. I could at least understand that half of my brain.

“This means you’re next in line for the throne. You’re aware of this…”  
“I am aware of no such thing! If anyone is next in line, it’s Eamon.” He insisted.  
“Eamon is very likely ill, Alistair. And even if he were alive and well, your claim is by blood. That trumps his.”  
“Stop. Just stop right there. I’ve no desire to be king. Not now. Not ever.”

The funny thing was… I believed him. Countries get torn apart more times than I can count because the wrong greedy bugger is lusting after that shiny crown and scepter, but Alistair—a person with a legitimate claim to it, a person with a good heart and a clear conscience—wanted nothing to do with it. I think there’s some irony in there somewhere.

“At any rate, that’s it. That’s what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it.”  
“Are you… keeping anything else from me?” Hey, I had to ask. Strike while the iron’s hot, right?  
“Other than my unholy love of fine cheeses and a slight obsession with my hair, no. That’s it. Just the prince thing. So, there you have it. Now, can we move on and I'll just pretend you think I'm some... nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens? ”  
"Is that what you really think?" I asked, my tone softening slightly.  
"No ... what I really think is that I was lucky enough to have survived with you." He said in all sincerity before walking away.

I wasn’t mad, per se. I was… hurt. All those fireside chats, hours spent just talking and trading witticisms and getting to know one another… and then he drops this on me. It made me question the legitimacy of the other things he confided in me. It made me wonder if this… tingly feeling I was beginning to get whenever I was near him meant anything at all. But the way he said those last few words... "with you"... I couldn't help but feel a slight flutter in my stomach, despite all the uncertainty now swirling around in my mind.

As soon as we attempted to cross the small bridge leading to the heart of the village, we were interrupted by a villager asking if we’d come to help. Not a promising start. He went on to explain that there had been no word from the castle in days and the village was under attack night after night by some… evil force. And the hits just keep on coming.

The villager showed us the way to Bann Teagan, Arl Eamon’s brother and apparently the only person who was holding Redcliffe together at the moment.

“Greetings, friends. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the Arl.” The Bann announced himself with an air of formality, his bold voice echoing against the chantry walls. He was a bit older than me, but that didn't detract from his rather handsome features—bluish green eyes, dark brown hair, strong chin. I couldn't help but think he looked somewhat familiar... as though we'd met before. 

“I remember you, Bann Teagan. Though the last time I saw you I was a lot younger and… covered in mud.” Alistair greeted him.   
“Covered in mud… Alistair? It is you, isn’t it? You’re alive! This is wonderful news!”  
“Still alive, yes. Though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it.” He shot an icy glare in Zevran’s direction. Zevran just shrugged as if he were saying ‘It wasn’t me!’ Oh, that elf was infuriating.

Teagan went on to explain that he so wasn’t buying any of Loghain’s bullshit. It was quite a nice change of pace, really.

“So you are a Grey Warden as well? Forgive me but, there’s something very familiar about you. Have we met?”

Ah. That's right. We had met.

“Yes, my lord. I believe we met when I was younger as well. I would often accompany my father, Bryce Cousland, when he sought an audience with your brother.”  
“Oh of course. I can see the resemblance now. Sarah, was it? My how you’ve grown.”  
“Scarlett. And yeah I… get that a lot.” I felt a light blush make an appearance on my face. Slightly self-conscious about her height? Who? Me?  
“I was terribly sorry to hear about Highever. Such a tragedy.”  
“Thank you.” Hey, I didn’t immediately cry at the mention of the H-word this time! Progress!  
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, my lady.” He reached for my hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it. “I wish it were under better circumstances.” I smiled softly in return for his condolences.  
Alistair cleared his throat. Very loudly. “Might we dispense with the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter?”  
“Of course. You are here to see my brother, yes? Unfortunately that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill. No one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls and no one responds to my shouts. The attacks started a few nights ago. Evil… things… surged from the castle. We drove them back but… many perished during the assault.”  
“What are these… evil things?” I inquired.  
“Some call them the walking dead—decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh. Each night they come with greater numbers. I fear tonight’s assault will be the worst yet. Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends.”  
“It isn’t just up to me…”  
“Don’t worry. We’ll drive them back.” I offered.  
“Thank you. Thank you! This means more to me than you can guess.”

He went on to instruct us to seek out Murdoch, the village mayor, and Ser Perth, one of Eamon’s knights to see what needed to be done to ensure success against tonight’s attack. Before we could head out the door and find them, however, I noticed a young girl sobbing near the chantry exit. She explained that she had lost her mother to… whatever those things are… and that her brother, Bevin, had run off and she was scared to death that they got him, too. Now, I’m not really what you’d call a “do-gooder.” Yes, it can be rewarding to do good deeds for their own sake, but I typically wouldn’t go out of my way for such things. But as soon as I heard those desperate sobs, as soon as I saw the heartbreak in her eyes at the thought of losing her family, I had to do something. I knew what that was like and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. I promised her we’d find him.

And so we went out to the village to search for him. Logically, I figured the best place to start would be Kaitlyn’s home, so in we went.

“I do not believe we’re actually doing this. What will it be next, hm? Rescuing stranded kittens from trees?”  
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Morrigan. If this is really so beneath you, do feel free to wait at the chantry.” I suggested.  
“Scarlett is trying to help someone in need,” Leliana defended. “There is no cause worthier.”  
“Oh you are so—”  
“Quiet!” I interrupted. “I think I heard something. This way.”

Upon entering the nearest room, I spied a rather large and conspicuous closet. As I drew closer, I heard a short gasp. Aha!  
“Hello? Is someone in there?” I called.  
“Go away. This isn’t your home.” A tiny voice answered. Ugh. Great. Full disclosure: I’ve never been great with children. I tried to get close to my nephew Oren, but I always felt… weird… around him. Like I couldn’t really be me. Kids don’t really get sarcasm and they aren’t typically big readers—two major components of my personality. My mother always said I was an old soul; like I’d been a grown-up since I was nine or something. I guess I could see where she was coming from. I’ve always been rather… serious. Well, that is, until I started spending time with Alistair. Never before would I even have conceived of making shadow puppets by the fire or trying to aim a cube of cheese into someone else’s mouth or hiding Sten’s pants when he wasn’t looking. Heh, I guess he brought out the kid in me.

“I’m… I’m here to help.” I explained.  
“I don’t need your help.” The voice insisted. Splendid. Now what?  
“Young man, you come out this instant!” Wynne demanded in her most motherly voice.  
“I… yes, ma’am.” Bless that mage! “Okay, I’m out. You’re not going to hurt me, are you? I’ll go back to the chantry if you really want.”  
“No, we’re not going to hurt you. What were you doing in there?” I inquired.  
“It’s a secret.”  
“I’m not sure if you noticed, Bevin, but I carry a rather large sword…”  
“Scarlett!” Wynne chided.

Alistair tried to stifle a chuckle. Right, the gentler approach might be more effective in this instance.

“Are you sure it’s a secret? I might be able to help you.” There. Happy now, Wynne?  
“You… could? Alright, I guess.” He went on to explain he was trying to use his father’s sword to slay the beasts that took his mother, but he was too weak to wield it. “Kaitlyn says everyone’s going to die tonight.”  
“Well, I’m here now. I’m going to try and stop that from happening.” I offered gently.  
“You?! But… but you’re just a girl! Girls don't fight!”

Ooooh this kid was getting on my nerves. I unsheathed my sword, held it out in front of him, and looked him square in the eyes.

“Here, Bevin. Look closely. Do you see this stain? It’s blood from a desire demon who fell by my blade. I just can’t seem to get it out. And this dent here? This is from when I took on twenty darkspawn on the journey here. And the little chip that’s missing here? It was carved out when I ran my sword through the sternum of an assassin who was trying to kill me. So, you know, maybe try to show a little respect.”

He just stared at me, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Is that a yes?” I asked. He nodded slowly in reply.  
“Great. Now please go see your sister at the chantry. She’s worried sick.”

Bevin ran out of there as quickly as his feet could carry him. Alistair began a slow clap.

“Bravo. You sure do have a way with children.”  
I curtseyed. “What can I say? I have a strong maternal instinct. Come on, we’d better check in with those men Teagan mentioned.”

They had a few… errands… for me to run, but compared to what I endured at the Circle, it was a cake walk. A little persuasion and intimidation here, a few bribes there, some strategically placed oil drums and false blessings and we were ready for anything. There was a watermill near a little pier downwind from the chantry, so I decided to hang out there as we waited for night to come. I found the sounds of the churning water sort of… soothing; a nice break from the murmur of darkspawn that always seemed to be in the back of my mind nowadays. I closed my eyes and let the wind envelop me like a cool blanket as I ran my fingertips along the water's surface. When I reopened them, I saw Alistair had come to sit beside me.

“Sorry to interrupt. You looked so… at peace.”  
“Oh, it's okay. I was just sitting here. Getting lost in reverie.”  
“Actually you’ve never really struck me as the daydreaming type. You always seem to have your feet firmly on the ground.”  
“Au contraire. My penchant for the fanciful has gotten me into trouble many a time.”

It was true. Mother and father had grand plans for me and I always went out of my way to sabotage them. I was never meant to rule Highever, but they wanted me to be prepared anyway, and I suppose the best way they figured they could do that was to marry me off as soon as I was of age. Marriage… had never been at the top of my priority list. My parents, especially my mother, kept parading suitor after suitor in front of me for years but I just kept my head down and my nose stuck in my book of choice. It infuriated them, but I didn't care. Why settle for a humdrum life of provincial domestication when I had the grandest adventures imaginable right at my fingertips? None of those suitors could hold a candle to those heroic leading men. Perhaps someday my prince would come. It just definitely wasn’t any of them.

“Huh. You learn something new everyday.”  
“Speaking of learning new things… why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why keep your birthright a secret?”  
“You… never asked?”  
“I’m… I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me.” I admitted barely above a whisper.  
“This from the woman who doesn’t trust anybody?” Ouch. Touché.  
“Fine. Call me a hypocrite.” I couldn’t hide the hint of anger now rising in my tone.  
“I don’t think you’re a hypocrite. I just… well, it hurt me, too. The other night when you said you didn’t trust me.”  
I sighed in resignation. “I know. I’m sorry. I thought I was being honest at the time, but the more I thought about it the more I’ve come to realize that… I do trust you, Alistair. You’ve become… well, my best friend, really. I’ve been a loner for a lot of my life. This is all sort of new to me.”

My eyes fell to the ground and it was my turn to start fidgeting. He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine.

“It’s new to me, too.” He smiled. “And it’s not that I didn’t trust you… it’s… how can I explain this… The thing is, I’m not used to telling anyone who didn’t already know. It was always a secret. Even Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. And then, after the battle when I should have told you—I don’t know. It just seemed too late by then. I mean, how do you just tell someone that?”  
“You who is never without a witty retort or snappy comeback were unsure of how to use your words?”  
“Two very different situations, I’ll have you know. I should have told you. It was probably important. I guess part of me… liked you not knowing.”  
I nodded in affirmation. “You thought I would treat you differently.”  
“Yes, I did. Whenever people find out I suddenly become the bastard prince to them instead of just… Alistair. I know it must sound stupid to you, but I hate that it’s shaped my entire life. I never asked for it, I never wanted it, and I certainly never want to be king. The mere idea of it terrifies me.”  
“When it comes down to it, you probably won’t have a choice in the matter.” I warned. I was pretty familiar with how all of this succession and nobility stuff worked. I wasn’t as good at the game as Leliana, but I paid attention.

“Yeah, no kidding. Nothing is ever my choice. Ever since I was born, all of my decisions have been made for me.” He gave himself a moment to cool his anger, then, in all sincerity, he said, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I… I guess I was just hoping you would like me for who I am. It was a dumb thing to do.”  
“You’re still you, Alistair. Nothing can take that away.” I squeezed his hand gently and met his eyes as the twilight painted the sky in beautiful purples and reds behind him. “And I happen to like you very much. Just as you are.” He gave me a slow smile and began stroking his thumb across the back of my hand.

“Scarlett… there’s something I’ve been—”  
I was trying to listen, but I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Something... sinister. I stood up immediately and craned my neck to see whatever I could coming from the hilltop. Sure enough, the filthy creatures were heading right for us.

“Oh no.” I said as my eyes grew wider with their approach.

"What, what is it?" Alistair asked.

 “They’re here.”

I found out all too quickly that Teagan was not exaggerating. They were literally reanimated corpses charging straight for us. Their flesh was blue and grey and decaying, their bodies in varying states of disrepair—a missing forearm here, an eye hanging by a thread out of its socket there, a bone jutting out of a shin or a stomach spilling its intestines... the gory list goes on. We lit the traps but it made little difference. They just kept coming.

“Hey Qunari, I bet I land more blows than you before the night is over.” Zevran called from behind me.  
“You are a fool.” Sten countered.  
“Oooh I see. Afraid of a little challenge, eh?”  
“I’ll show you what a real warrior looks like, elf.” Ha! I don’t believe Sten fell for that.

“Make ready!” I shouted to my companions behind me. “We’re prepared for this. Be strong. Fight well. And we’ll live to see another dawn.”

I don’t know if I was trying to convince them or myself. We’d fought some fucked up things up until this point, but corpses? It was… unnerving, to say the least. And the smell. No one ever mentions the horrendous smell of rotting flesh that accompanies a zombie attack. Ugh, I’m getting sick just remembering it. We all readied our weapons and attacked them full force.

They had the numbers but we had the will. And I showed no mercy. There was nothing to tug at my conscience this time. They were already dead. How could I possibly make things worse for them? The real question is: How do you kill something that's already dead? 

Cutting off their limbs hindered them, but didn't do a whole lot to really stop them from biting and crawling and doing whatever else they still could. It was almost completely by accident that I came to learn sinking my sword into the base of their skulls seemed to actually render them inert and lifeless. 

"The brain!" I shouted. "It's their weak point. Take them out!" 

As they fell by my blade one by one, I could faintly hear Zevran and Sten counting off in the background, keeping a tally of how many each had killed. Unbelievable.

I saw a horde of them headed toward the chantry doors. Oooh not tonight, you sons of bitches. 

I ran in front of the doors and fought with all my might to draw them back, but there were so many I was quickly overwhelmed. Just as I was about to give up hope, I felt a broad back pushing against mine. 

"You have impeccable timing, you know that?" I shot Alistair a brief smile before I went back to my task of taking the ugly buggers down. 

"Remember that the next time I conveniently forget to mention I'm a prince for a few weeks, alright?" He joked before mowing more of them down. And together, we did not let them pass. Not a one of them made it through those doors. And damn did it feel good. 

As the sun began to rise, their numbers had dwindled to a much more manageable amount. At that point it was really more a tying up of loose ends than a battle. Although Redcliffe did suffer some casualties, victory was ours.

Teagan gave a rousing victory speech and offered me a helmet that belonged to his great uncle in return for my “heroism.” I felt bad accepting it—especially since I typically chose to go without one—but he insisted. Then he said he needed to speak with us immediately. Ugh. He could keep the helmet. All I really wanted was a nap. Was that so much to ask?


	9. Head versus Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the village is saved, Scarlett and her companions soon come to realize something evil is lurking within Redcliffe's castle walls. Faced with an impossible decision, Scarlett must choose between cold pragmatism or bend to the will of her growing affection for Alistair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments and kudos! Enjoy!

Welp, it looked like the nap wasn’t happening so off we went to speak with Teagan at the windmill. He began to explain that his next move was to investigate the castle to gain an understanding of what was going on. He was stopped in his tracks when he spied the familiar face of his brother’s wife headed our way.

“I do not have much time. I slipped away as soon as the battle was over and I need to return quickly. And I… need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone.”

I didn’t like this. She was hiding something. I could see it in her uneasy eyes. She was a slight woman, the epitome of petite, not a single hair out of place, lips and eyes and cheeks perfectly painted to hide all signs of her age (but she wasn't fooling anyone; she was at least 40 or so), her voice shrill and shaky. In other words, she was exactly what I pictured when I thought of an Orlesian. And after what Alistair had told me about the way she'd treated him, I found myself disliking her almost immediately. 

“Why don’t we all go to the castle?” I suggested.  
“What? Who is this woman, Teagan?”  
Alistair sighed. “You remember me, Lady Isolde, don’t you?” He sounded exhausted, poor thing.  
“Alistair. What are you doing here?” The resentment and a hint of disgust were painfully transparent in her tone. I guess in this instance absence had not made the heart grow fonder.  
“Please, Lady Isolde. We didn’t even know anyone was alive in the castle. We must have answers.” Alistair entreated.

She didn’t really offer much. Just that there was some mage responsible for unleashing a “terrible evil” within the castle and that her son, Connor, was likely going mad. More zombies _and_ kids to boot? Oh, Andraste herself couldn’t keep me away.

In slightly better news, we found out Eamon was still alive... for the time being. He had been poisoned by this no-good mage, which was apparently the reason he fell ill in the first place. Good to know.

Isolde explained that Teagan had to come alone for Connor’s sake, but I wasn’t buying. Something more was definitely going on here. Teagan, being a good man, agreed to go anyway, despite my warnings that this was likely a trap. Before he left with her, however, he and I discussed a plan.

He proposed going with Isolde while my companions and I use a secret passage to enter the castle. He hoped to keep whatever lurked within the castle walls distracted enough so we could slip in unnoticed. Ser Perth would be waiting for me to open the castle gates and come to our rescue, should we need it. It was by no means a good plan, but it was what we had. My sleep-deprived brain certainly wasn’t cranking out anything better.

“You know that woman, Alistair?” Morrigan posed.  
“Yes, I do. It’s a long story, alright?” He replied, clearly quite agitated.   
“She seemed less than thrilled to see you again. How do you manage to have this same effect on all the women you come across, I wonder…”  
“Will you kindly shut up?” Alistair growled through gritted teeth.  
“Ah, quick-witted as ever this morning, I see.”  
“Morrigan… could you just… not? Please?” I interjected.  
“Ah, coming to rescue your beloved prince, are you? Typical.”

Boy oh boy, good news travels fast.

“A) He’s not mine and B) I’m not trying to rescue anyone. I’m just exhausted and I really don’t feel up to playing referee right now. If you must pick on someone, pick on Zevran. Something tells me he’d enjoy it.”  
“Alas, we met so short a time ago and this young, statuesque beauty already has me figured out. It hardly seems fair.” Zevran grinned mischievously.  
“If the choice is between bringing the elf pleasure and remaining quiet, I whole-heartedly choose silence.”

Wow, that worked out better than I could have hoped.

Upon entering the castle dungeon, we were faced with—you guessed it—more zombies. We made quick work of them but my sword definitely felt heavier than usual. Never in my life had I so longed for a cup of coffee. I didn’t even like coffee but it would have at least been something to wake me up a little. Sheesh.

“Hello? Who’s there? Is there anyone alive out there?”

I followed the voice to a cell.

“Wait, you don’t look like the Arlessa’s guards. Are you from outside the castle?”  
“Possibly. Who are you supposed to be?” I asked. My money was on the arl-poisoning, demon-summoning mage, but best to check, right?

He explained his name was Jowan and he was hired by Isolde to tutor Connor. I looked back at Alistair to see if his story held water.

“Don’t look at me. The last time I saw Eamon, Connor was a baby. I have no idea if he’s a mage or not.”  
“If Connor is a mage, why has he not been sent to the Circle? And if you’re a simple tutor, why are you locked away in here?” I asked.  
“Connor had started to show… signs. Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle of Magi would take him away from her. That’s where I came in. And as for why I’m in here, well, I… I poisoned Arl Eamon but that’s all I did, I swear! I know it looks suspicious but I’m not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle. I was imprisoned when all that began.” He insisted.  
“Why did you poison the arl?” Motive. Motive would be good here.  
“I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain.”  
“Of course you were.” I rolled my eyes. Loghain’s treachery was getting really old, really fast.  
“I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden and if I dealt with him Loghain would settle matters with the Circle.”  
“And what matters would those be?”  
“Well… I’m a maleficar. A blood mage. I dabbled in the forbidden arts and they condemned me to death for it.” He admitted.  
“You, a blood mage? Truly? I would never have guessed.” Apparently Morrigan was not impressed.  
“Everything’s fallen apart and I’m responsible. I have to make it right somehow, I have to!”  
“If Connor is a mage, could he be responsible for all this?” I reasoned.  
“It’s possible. He knows little of magic, but he may have done something to tear open the veil, allowing spirits and demons to come through. I never thought things would end up like this. I have to fix it.”  
“I say this boy could still be of use to us. But if not, then let him go. Why keep him prisoner here?” Morrigan offered up her opinion rather freely.  
“Hey hey! Let’s not forget he’s a blood mage. You can’t just set a blood mage free.” Ah, Alistair. Once an almost-templar, always an almost-templar.  
“He wishes to redeem himself… doesn’t everyone deserve that chance?” Leliana posed.  
“How, exactly, do you intend to set things right?” I asked. Let’s keep our eye on the prize, people.  
“I’d… well, I’d try to save anyone still up there. There must be something I can do. When the time comes I am ready to accept the consequences of my actions, but until that time, please, let me help you.”

He seemed sincere, he really did. And I’d already welcomed a murdering Qunari and an accomplished assassin into my little party. What was one little blood mage, really?

“I’m… I’m letting you out. Don’t try anything.” I could feel Alistair’s stare of disapproval boring into my spine. Oh well. I just couldn’t afford to see the world as black and white as he does, not in my position. There isn’t always a right choice and a wrong one. In my experience, life was composed of nothing but varying shades of grey.

“You’re letting me out? And what then?”  
“You come with us.” I offered plainly.  
“I’m… not sure that’s such a good idea. I want to help but I don’t want to follow you into danger, exactly…”  
“I’m sorry, did I make it sound like this was up for debate? My mistake.” Opening that cell was one thing, but letting a blood mage responsible for poisoning the arl roam about the castle without supervision? I wasn’t that trusting or that stupid.

“But… I… fine.” He resignedly came out of his cell and joined our little brood. For now. And then we fought some more zombies. And then we progressed to another floor of the castle. And then we fought some more zombies AND spirits, so that was a fun twist. And then we went up another floor and fought some more zombies and spirits. Do you see a pattern forming here?

Eventually we found our way to the castle gates and, after fighting more zombies and spirits of course, we opened them for Ser Perth and his men. He asked to join us in the castle hall, but until I knew what we were dealing with, I asked them to remain outside and guard the gate. I didn’t want them to die needlessly. I also instructed Jowan to stay with them. I didn’t know how Isolde would react to my setting him free, and the last thing we needed going in there was added unpredictability.

I climbed the steps and hung my head as soon as I stood before those impossibly huge wooden doors. Then I felt Alistair come stand beside me.

“Are you… alright?”  
I shook my head. “No, no I’m not. I’m running on zero energy, I’m covered in blood and zombie gook and Maker knows what else, and I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that whatever is waiting for us beyond these doors is going to be nothing less than a waking nightmare.”  
“Ever the optimist.” He leaned into me and nudged my shoulder with his playfully.  
I heard Morrigan draw closer and she joined me at my other side. “Whatever is behind those doors… we are with you.”  
Leliana followed suit and stood behind me. “Yes, yes we are. To the bitter end.” She affirmed.  
“I… thank you,” I whispered.

I know it might not have seemed like much, but it meant a lot to me to have their support. I was doing my best under really difficult circumstances day after day, and though they might not always agree with my decisions, it seemed like they at least recognized I was trying and that I gave a damn. It gave me a second wind. I stood up straighter, I gripped my sword tighter, I held my head higher, and I pushed those intimidating doors open with everything I had.

I’ll be the first to admit that of all the horrors I imagined to see upon entering the main hall, Teagan dancing a jig was not one of them. The boy I assumed was Connor was standing beside Isolde in front of the fireplace and laughing and clapping, clearly amused by his puppet of a former uncle. Okay, this was not good.

“So these are the visitors you told me about, Mother? The ones who defeated the soldiers I sent to reclaim my village?” His voice was gruff and low, certainly not any voice that should be coming out of a little boy. It chilled me to the core. Welp, I was definitely awake now. “What is it, mother? I cannot see it well enough.”

“It’s… it’s just a woman, Connor. Like me.”

“She is nothing like you. Look at her. So young and beautiful, too. She must be half your age. I'm surprised you don't have her killed in a fit of jealousy.” Geez, kid. Take it easy. I may not like Isolde, but no need to kick her while she's down. 

“Connor, I beg you. Do not hurt anyone.”  
“M-Mother? What… What’s happening? Where am I?” He sounded like a little boy this time, lost and confused. Well, if we weren’t convinced he was possessed before, we sure as shit were now.  
“Oh Connor! Thank the Maker!” Isolde exclaimed. Then the demon came back full force.

Isolde begged me not to hurt her son. She insisted that Jowan was the one who summoned the demon and that Connor was just trying to help his father.

“It was a fair deal!” the demon insisted. “Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it’s my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world. No one tells me what to do anymore!”  
Teagan had a bit of an… outburst… and the demon warned him to keep his trap shut or else. Maker, I hope whatever was done to him is reversible.

“Let’s keep things civil. What have you come here for?” the demon asked.  
“I’ve… I’ve come here to help.”  
“To help me? To help father? To help yourself? Which?”  
“To help the people you terrorized.” I answered.  
“I was just having fun! I think you’re trying to spoil things. What do you think, mother? I think she’s threatening me. This woman spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village and now she’ll repay me!”

And he sent more zombies after us and ran away. And Teagan charged with the zombies as an added bonus. I tried my hardest to keep him out of the fight, to make sure my blows landed nowhere near him. When that wasn’t working, I opted to knock him out with my pommel. Better unconscious than dead, right?

When the battle was over, Teagan regained consciousness and seemed to be back to his old self. Isolde was relieved, but her thoughts were only of Connor. She insisted once again that he was not responsible.

“Please. There must be some way we can save him.”  
“I’m not going to kill a child.” I reassured her.  
Morrigan chimed in. “Clearly the child is an abomination. There is… only one way to stop it.”  
“He’s not always the demon you saw. Sometimes the real Connor shows through. You saw that yourselves. Please. I just want to protect him.”  
“And what a fine job you’ve done so far. If you’d sent him off to the Circle where he was meant to be, none of this would have happened, Isolde.” I scolded.  
“You know nothing of having a child," she hissed. “To have kissed his hair as he slept. To have watched him grow. Don’t you dare speak to me that way.”  
“You’re right. I don’t know the ‘joys’ of motherhood. But I do know common sense. I know mages can be dangerous if they don’t receive proper training. I know inviting a damn maleficar into my home and letting him near my family would likely not lead to a happy ending. I know I wouldn’t let my own selfishness outweigh the very lives of the villagers I’m charged with defending. Your ‘protection’ means less than nothing now.”

I was seething, I couldn’t help it. How could a person be so blind? And now, because of her ignorance and stupidity, it seemed her son was going to pay the ultimate price. I took a slow breath and closed my eyes to regain my composure. When I reopened them I asked, “What are our options?”

“I wouldn’t normally suggest… slaying a child but, he’s an abomination. I’m not sure there’s any other choice.” Alistair explained, his words heavy with regret.

And that’s when Jowan strolled in. What luck.

“You! You did this to Connor!” Isolde shouted, her spindly finger pointed accusingly at the mage.  
“I didn’t! I didn’t summon any demon, I told you! Please, if you’ll let me help…”  
“Help?! You betrayed me! I brought you here to help my son and you poisoned my husband!”  
“This is the mage you spoke of? Didn’t you say he was in the dungeon?” Teagan inquired.  
“I… I set him free.” I admitted sheepishly.  
“How dare you?! If this man hadn’t poisoned my husband, none of this would have happened! He should be executed!”  
“Isolde, you share plenty of blame in this as well. Don’t deny it. I thought he could be of use. He’s spent time with Connor. He knows what he’s capable of. And he knows powerful magic. Let’s at least listen to what he has to say. We’re out of options here.” I suggested.  
“The demon in Connor needs to be destroyed. Killing Connor is the easiest way to do that, certainly. But there is another way. A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself.”  
“That requires much lyrium and a number of mages we do not possess.” Morrigan explained.  
“I have blood magic.” Jowan offered.  
“Whoa, I cannot abide by this. Blood magic is not something to be trifled with.” I objected.  
“But… if there’s a way… I must know it. Please, tell us what you mean, Jowan.” Isolde’s eyes grew wide with hope.

Jowan explained that lyrium powers the ritual, but in its stead, he could use a human sacrifice.

Isolde, without skipping a beat, said, “I will be the sacrifice so my son can live. The choice is very clear.” Like I said, I did not like Isolde, to be perfectly blunt about it. It was her secrecy and selfishness that caused all of this in the first place. The blame for a lot of this situation rested on her shoulders. Certainly this was a far from ideal solution, but one foolish woman dying so one innocent little boy could live? That seemed like a fair trade to me. Then, as if he could read my thoughts, Alistair grabbed my arm and started pulling me away.

“Scarlett. A word, please.”

Once we were away from everyone, he dove right in.

“You’re not seriously considering this, are you? I mean, using blood magic and killing Isolde? There’s so much wrong with this picture I can’t even begin to—”  
“So you wish the little boy to die then?” I asked plainly.  
“No, no of course not. We need mages and we need lyrium. The Circle has both and it’s not that far from here.”

He had a point, and the mages did owe us. Still, it would take time, and that was a luxury we did not have.

“Alistair, every minute we’re gone, the greater the chance that that… thing… is going to kill more people. Innocent people. We have a solution, albeit an imperfect one, right here and right now. Isolde played a pivotal role in all this. If this is her way of setting things right, I’m disinclined to rob her of that chance.”  
“Scarlett, please.” He grabbed both of my hands and held them tightly. “Eamon is the closest thing to family I have. I cannot stand the thought of him waking up to the harsh reality of having lost either his beloved wife or his only son. Or, Maker forbid, both. I’m begging you. Come with me to the Circle. Let’s end this the right way.”

As a leader, you’re supposed to be impartial. You’re not supposed to let your personal feelings cloud your judgment. And now I found myself in a war of head versus heart. Going to the Circle meant putting more innocents in harm’s way, but Maker, despite my best efforts I just could not ignore that look of complete desperation on Alistair’s disheartened face. He really needed this. And I was slowly beginning to realize I needed him.

“Teagan, is there any chance we might make use of a couple of horses?” I called over.  
“I’m… not sure what remains after the attacks, but you’re welcome to whatever is in our stables. …Why? Surely you can’t be thinking of leaving at a time like this.”  
“We’re going to the Circle to get what’s required to send a mage into the Fade. The last thing we need to add to this tragedy is more bloodshed.”  
“But… we don’t know what havoc Connor will wreak while you’re away.”  
I nodded. “I know. It’s a risk we’re going to have to take. This is the best we can do.”  
“Then let the maleficar remain here. If he truly wishes to help, we’ll put that to the test in your absence.” Teagan requested.  
“Jowan, stay here and do everything within your power to keep those yet alive safe. Morrigan, Zevran, Sten, please stay with him. We’ll return as soon as possible.” They all nodded in assent.

Wynne, Leliana, Alistair, and I made our way to the stables and found two mounts in decent condition. It was less than ideal but then, what about this whole situation wasn’t? Alistair and I shared a horse; I rode in front with him behind me. The journey would go much faster on horseback.

I don’t know when, but eventually I must have dozed off. When I awoke I was still riding, but my head was on Alistair’s chest and he had the reins.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” I offered, my head still a little groggy and my voice thick with sleep. I tried to lift myself off his chest but it was so comfortable and warm I just didn’t have it in me.  
“Don’t be. I know you’re exhausted. We all are. Maybe we should stop for a few hours.”  
I shook my head. “The longer we take the more people die. We must help them.”  
“Scarlett, you’re not going to be of much help to anyone in the state you’re in. I’m not suggesting we stop for a full night. Just for a quick rest. Then we’ll be on our way again. Alright?”  
I sighed. “Alright. Just for a few hours. But for the love of the Maker, no tents, okay?”  
He let out a slight chuckle. “As you command.”


	10. The Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After she receives a gift from Alistair, Scarlett comes to realize how much he means to her. Finding the courage to express her feelings, however... well, that's the tricky part. After Connor is saved and Scarlett and the gang are offered some Redcliffe hospitality, she realizes how to tell Alistair how she feels. But does he feel the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I did not write the song Scarlett sings. I just thought its beautiful simplicity fit super well with the mood of this chapter and overall story. 
> 
> To hear Scarlett (aka me) sing, please visit https://soundcloud.com/user-217358805/storm
> 
> Again, enjoy and I can't wait to read your feedback!

“Scarlett...” I heard a whisper. Then I felt something soft and velvety run down my cheek and I slowly opened my eyes to see Alistair smiling down at me.  
“What’s that?” I yawned and stretched my body to its fullest length across my bedroll.  
“Well, I want to thank you for agreeing to come here. I know you didn’t have to do it and it would have been easier not to, but you did it anyway. It means the world to me. And this…” he twirled the rose in his fingers, “I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, how could something so beautiful exist in a place with such despair and ugliness? I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So, I’ve had it ever since.”  
“It’s beautiful.” I whispered softly.

I must admit I’ve always had a soft spot for red roses, as cliché as they could sometimes be. I loved everything about them, from the vibrant crimson of the petals to their sharp ambrosial scent. And Maker, were they romantic. I know, I know. I should lay off the fairy tales.

“I thought I might… give it to you, actually. As a thank-you for what you’ve done.” He paused as he struggled to find the courage to complete his thought. “And in a lot of ways… I think the same thing when I look at you.”  
I smiled brightly and turned to lay on my side, propping myself up on my elbow. “I’m not exactly what you’d call a delicate flower.”  
“Heh, delicate, no. I guess it’s a bit silly, isn’t it? I just thought, here I am, doing all this complaining and you haven’t exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You’ve had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden. It’s all been death and fighting and tragedy.”  
“Well, it hasn’t all been bad. There was wine.” I smirked.  
“Heh yes, that’s true, there was wine.” He smiled. “Anyway, I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this… darkness.”  
“I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Alistair. That’s… it’s lovely.” I gave him a shy smile. I never quite learned how to take a compliment well. Usually I would just blush and stammer awkwardly until the moment had passed. At least this time I managed to get a complete sentence out. 

“I’m glad you like it.” He beamed. I extended my arms and he helped me to my feet.  
“I do. Very much so.” I smiled wider as I brought the rose up to my nose, closed my eyes, and breathed it in. Ahhh. “While I do appreciate you making me take the time to literally stop and smell the roses, we have a little boy to exorcise so, we’d better hop to it.”  
“Always so practical.” He smirked.  
“Force of habit.” I shrugged.

Yeah, I played it cool on the outside; inside I was reeling. Was he really just trying to thank me? Or did it mean something… more? Despite my best efforts to keep them in check, my feelings toward Alistair had been steadily building since the day I’d met him. For a long time, I hadn’t even realized it. I just kept telling myself we were friends and it should remain that way. In a situation already this jam-packed with complications, the last thing I needed was to add more. But all those gentle moments when we were alone, the unfettered laughs we shared and deep confessions we made, the sideways glances and the innocent caresses we stole… sometimes it all seemed anything but friendly. And now this… I just… didn’t really know where to go from here. Maybe he felt the same way I’d slowly come to realize I was feeling about him. Maybe not. Maybe we’d just stay in this weird limbo forever. Wouldn’t that be fun?

We quickly packed up the horses and rode the rest of the way to the Circle.

I brought Wynne in case Irving needed a little… softening. I noticed the last time we visited the Circle that Irving obviously respected her. Luckily, when I spoke to him he was happy to lend a helping hand, which was a huge relief. I don’t know what we would have done if he’d turned us down. Alistair and Wynne led the way back to the pier while Leliana and I followed a few paces behind.

“It seems our Alistair has taken quite a liking to you.” Leliana smiled at me, and it seemed a genuine smile—not a hint of jealousy. Maybe I’d misread their little talk a few days ago after all.  
“What makes you say that? Because he gave me this?” I held up the rose.  
“Well, not just that but yes, that’s part of it. Are you intending to… return his affection?”  
“Well, I don’t know if I’d call giving a woman a rose ‘affection,’ exactly…”  
“I wouldn’t know what else to call it.”  
“He was just thanking me for not taking the easy way out with this Connor thing. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”  
“Scarlett, I know you are shy, but do come on. That boy cares for you. And not just as a friend.”

I felt a warmth invade my cheeks. I just couldn’t help it. I was probably the same shade of red as that rose. Ugh.

“I… I’m terrible in these sorts of situations, Leliana. I always stammer and blush and feel terribly shy and awkward.”  
“Heh, you are both awkward, in your way.” She sniggered. “But there is a lid for every pot. The question is… do you feel the same way?”  
“Even if I did—hypothetically, of course—I don’t know if I could just come out and tell him. Just thinking about it right now is making my mouth dry and my palms sweaty. Super romantic, right?”  
“Then you must think of a way to show your feelings that doesn’t involve talking. I’m sure you will think of something.” She offered with a wink.

Welp, that blush was there to stay alright.

We rode back to Redcliffe, mages and lyrium in tow, with great haste. Before I knew it I was back in the castle’s great hall. Irving was speaking to his mages to make preparations for the ritual.

“Morrigan…” I called.  
“Yes? I see you have returned in one piece. That bodes well, I suppose.”  
“Yes, so far so good.” I gave her a half smile. “Well, I’ll cut right to the chase. We’ll need a mage to navigate the Fade and slay this demon. I would like to entrust that task to you.”  
“You… would? Why not Wynne?”  
“Never send a lamb to do a lion’s job.” That made her smile. Yep, you read that right—I made the ice queen smile. Incredible. I know I wasn’t quite being fair to Wynne, but when you’re facing a demon—especially one as damn frightening as this one—you pull out all the stops. Morrigan may have been the more… prickly of the pair, but she was also the more lethal. Of this I was certain.

“I am... honored. I shall do this and the boy shall remain unharmed. You have my word.”  
“Thank you. I know you won’t disappoint me.” She nodded in acknowledgment and we made our way back to the others.

“Any last-minute advice, Irving?” I asked.  
“It truly depends on the manner of demon. It sounds like a spirit of greed and desire, one of the more powerful in the hierarchy. It will likely tempt you with an offer. Resist it. Making deals with demons never turns out well.”  
“Please, as if I would be foolish enough to bargain with a demon. Do give me a little credit. It is not as though we are sending Alistair through the Fade.”  
“Hey!” Alistair whined.  
“Alright, let’s proceed. Morrigan, I know you probably won’t need it but, best of luck.” I offered.  
“You are correct. I will not need it.”

And so the mages began the ritual and off she went. I don’t know how much time she was really gone for, but it felt like an eternity. But somehow, some way, she managed to defeat the damn thing and she returned to us, thank the Maker. And Connor was saved.

We all gathered outside as the remaining residents of Redcliffe built pyres for their dead.

“So it is over.” Teagan declared. “Connor seems to be back to his old self, which is a blessing. I suppose we will need to send him to the Circle for training, once the war is over.”  
“I think that would be wise.” I glared daggers at Isolde.  
“Eamon will have much to mourn, should he recover. But at least he can be thankful that both his son and wife are safe.”  
“I owe you my deepest thanks. I had nearly… I can scarcely believe Connor is the boy he once was.” Isolde offered.  
“You’re welcome.” Was all I could say in return. I still wasn’t happy with her, but there was no need to rub salt in the wound either.  
“There is still the matter of Jowan. His poisoning of Eamon began this whole mess, yet he lives. I must decide what to do with him.” Teagan looked to me as though he wanted me to instruct him. That… really wasn’t my thing, so I remained quiet.  
“We will hold him for Eamon to decide his fate. If he doesn’t recover, his fate his sealed.” Works for me. “But our task is not done yet. Whatever the demon did to my brother, it seems to have spared his life, but he remains comatose.”  
“The Urn!” Isolde suggested excitedly. “The Urn of Sacred Ashes will save Eamon!”  
“Yes, I remember Ser Donall mentioning this Urn in Lothering. He made it sound like a needle in a haystack at best, and a pipedream at worst.” I recalled.  
“It is our only hope. I know we have already asked too much of you, Warden. But please, do us this service.” Isolde sounded more and more desperate with each syllable that passed her lips.  
I sighed. “Alright, let’s say I wanted to find this thing. Where would I begin?” I asked.  
“You must seek out Brother Genitivi in Denerim. No one knows more about the Urn than him.” Isolde suggested.  
“Alright, we’ll depart first thing tomorrow.”  
“You must stay here tonight and dine with us.” Isolde offered. “It is really the least we could do after all you have done for Connor.”  
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” I lied. I so would want to impose if it meant spending another night tent-free.  
“I will not take no for an answer. Please. Our home is your home.”

Huh. It’s amazing how saving someone’s life and the life of their child really changes a person’s attitude.

“Thank you. I confess a hot bath would be the most wondrous thing in the world right now.”  
“Please, come inside.”

And with that we all followed Isolde inside and her servants, or at least what remained of them, showed us to our quarters.

When I walked in the room my jaw dropped. I had grown up in rather… luxurious surroundings, but this room was something else entirely. Rich blue velvet drapes tied with golden ropes, vast, plush carpets stretching from wall to wall, rich cherry wood dressers and furnishings and a mirror so large it could have fit someone twice the size of Sten in its reflection. And the bed. Maker, the bed. I wanted nothing more than to crawl in and feel its softness all around me, but I was a mess. I wasn't about to tarnish the majesty of those high thread-count sheets with zombie entrails. So, inviting as it was, it would have to wait.

“Your bath will be ready in just a moment, my lady.” A small elf offered. “Do make yourself at home in the meantime.”

I sat down and removed my boots and my armor and felt twenty pounds lighter… probably because I was. I thought about just staying in my room but that bed kept calling my name, so I decided to wander around a bit.

I found my way into Eamon’s study and decided to snoop around. I know I probably shouldn’t have, but if we were going to go through all this trouble just to save him, I wanted to get an idea of the sort of man he really was. I had Alistair’s opinion of course but if he was truly the closest thing he had to a father growing up, I’m sure he was quite biased. I didn’t find much, but I did find an amulet—the one Alistair thought he destroyed when Eamon sent him away. It was all in one piece, though there were cracks throughout. Eamon must have found it and pieced it back together. He really did care, it seems. I put it in my pocket for safe keeping and moved to another room.

And that, my friends, is when I found the motherlode—I had never seen a library so large in my life. Books of every shape, color, and size. Books of every subject you could imagine. I so wished I hadn’t said we’d leave tomorrow. I could get lost in this room for months.

“Ah, there you are my lady. Your bath is ready.” Figures.

The bath felt… amazing isn’t a strong enough word. It felt extraordinary. You’re familiar with the phrase ‘You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone,’ yes? I did not fully appreciate hot water until all I had was a cold lake to wash in, and that was on the good days. This… this was divine. I washed myself with my usual cherry almond-scented soap and playfully moved the bubbles around for a bit. Then I closed my eyes and sunk down and it felt as though all of my troubles were melting away.

Before long I started to get pruny, so I grabbed a towel and dried off. When I came back to my room I saw a magnificent red dress laid out across the bed. Scarlett. Red dress. Cute. Then I noticed the heels on the floor beside it. With my height not only were they completely unnecessary, but I couldn’t walk in them to save my life. I held the dress up and prayed it would be long enough to cover my feet so I could just walk around in stockings.

The dress was made of velvet with black piping and lace in tasteful accents around the bodice and the bottom of the skirt. Ah, there’s the rub. It had a lace-up corset back. There was no way I was getting into this blasted thing by myself.

“Leliana!” I called into the hall after I threw on a robe and opened the door—her room was just across the way from mine.  
“Yes?” She answered as she walked out of her own and into my room.   
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to lend me a hand…” I closed the door behind us and gestured toward the fine garment strewn across the bed.   
She gasped with excitement. “Maker! It’s beautiful!”  
“Yes, it’s a nice dress. And also impossible for me to get on by myself.”  
“And the shoes! Tell me you’re wearing the shoes!” I had never seen her eyes light up like that since I’d known her.  
“I’m… not actually. You’re welcome to them if they fit.”  
“Really?!” She almost jumped up and down. “I don’t care if they don’t fit. Sometimes a girl just wants pretty feet.” She smiled brightly. “Get undressed. Together we’ll make this gown see reason.”

I smiled back. I guess this was something similar to what it would be like to have a sister. It was… kind of fun, actually.

She took the gown and held it up, preparing to help me slip it on. I raised my arms over my head to ease the process. Then Leliana just looked up at me, dumbfounded by the difference in our respective heights.

“Okay, bad idea. Maybe I should just step into it.” I suggested. Leliana brought the dress down to the floor and I placed my feet inside before she pulled it all the way up. The dress actually fit like a dream, and my feet were blissfully hidden. Thank the Maker. Then she began to lace me up…

“I know these things are supposed to be tight, but do make an exception. I prefer the ability to breathe over being fashionable.” I advised.  
“Oh very well. I suppose your bosoms are heaving enough without the help of this blasted thing.”

When she finished I stood up straight and looked at myself in the impossibly huge mirror. I actually looked… like me. Or rather, how I used to look before everything had happened. Before Highever fell. Before the Joining. It felt so long ago I barely recognized myself. My skin was completely white, almost glowing in its milky paleness, not a blemish to be found (luckily the dress managed to hide all my bruises, of which there were many). And she wasn't lying about the heaving bosom thing. I’d spent so much time in heavy armor lately I’d almost forgotten I’d had them. The top of the bodice formed a bateau neckline that led to billowy sleeves, showcasing my neck, shoulders, and collarbone quite nicely.

“What do you think?” I asked as I held out my arms and did a slow turn.

“Oh, you’re not done yet. We must do something with that hair.”

It seemed I didn’t have much choice in the matter so I just let her do… whatever it is she did.

“There. You’re ready.” She smiled and brought me to the mirror. I… had to hand it to her. She apparently knew what she was doing. She placed my hair atop my head in loose curls held in place by an onyx comb. She used just a dab of rouge on my lips and cheeks, which was a nice contrast to the paleness of my skin and the deep crimson of the dress.

“You are a vision.” She smiled wider. “He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” And just as I was about to open my mouth to scold her, she was gone. Ugh. Rogues.

Before long the elf who had drawn my bath greeted me warmly. “Dinner is served, my lady.”

And so I made my way into the dining room. I don’t know how it happened since I’d left as soon as the elf had told me to, but somehow I wound up being the last to arrive at the table. Awesome. We all know how much I _love_ drawing extra attention to myself.

Teagan was at the head with Alistair to his left. I—apparently the guest of honor—was to sit to his right. Leliana was beside me with Zevran across the way. Morrigan sat beside Leliana. Sten beside Zevran. Wynne was across from Connor and Isolde was waaaay at the other end of the table. Fine by me.

As I made my way to my seat, I had eyes only for the young man standing across the table from me. He looked devastatingly handsome. Freshly shaved and perfectly coiffed (he had mentioned a hair obsession, hadn't he?), his white tunic freshly pressed, laced up halfway so part of the tanned skin of his chest was tantalizingly exposed. Over the tunic he wore an ornate but understated black vest with a jaquard pattern that hung open and hit him just about mid-thigh, his legs clad in black leather pants and boots that came up to his knee. And he studied me just as closely, his eyes wandering over every inch of me. I felt quite bashful at first but only at first, all my fears relieved as soon as a slow smile crept across his lips. Then our eyes met, his stunned amber stare mirroring my emerald one. Once the initial shock wore off and he remembered his manners, he walked around the table to pull out my chair for me and offered me his hand—ever the gentleman. I took it and sat down. Before he returned to his seat he whispered in my ear, “You look… breathtakingly beautiful.” That earned him a wide smile and I could feel a blush painting my cheeks and chest. I know Leliana meant well, but I probably didn’t need the rouge after all, the way this day was shaping up. 

“You look lovely, Lady Cousland.” Teagan complimented.  
“Yes, the dress suits you quite nicely. I wasn’t sure it would fit a woman of your size, but all seems to be well.” Ah, there was the Isolde I’d come to know and love. Bitch.  
“Thank you.” I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to say a whole lot more but… well… no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. We were her guests, after all.

Teagan stood up after the food had been brought to the table. “We thank the Maker for this bounty and ask that He use it to the strength and nourishment of our bodies. We also thank Him for sending us these brave souls, without whom, we would not be alive today. Amen.”

The food was quite delicious but the wine… Merciful Andraste, the wine. It was perfect. Full-bodied, fragrant, not too sweet, not too dry. The flavor just… danced across my tastebuds. As I looked around the table I noticed Morrigan trying to flirt with Sten by attempting to fit an entire cucumber into her mouth. I almost felt bad for the Qunari but I had to admit, her repeated attempts to make him uncomfortable were downright hilarious. Oddly enough, I saw Zevran trying to do the same thing. No idea for whose benefit that was. Still, it was impressive. Maybe he just wanted to show he could.

“Do you like the food, Lady Cousland?” Teagan asked.  
“Scarlett, please. And it’s wonderful, thank you. And the wine is even better.”  
“Yes, how fortunate you’re old enough to drink it now. I fear the last time you were a guest here your father had to deny you.” He smiled.  
“Yes, I believe you’re right.”  
“I remember he used to go on and on about you. He said you could sing like no one he’d ever heard. What was it he used to call you? His little siren, I think it was.”  
“Well, my father likes… liked to exaggerate a bit. And that was… a long time ago. Unfortunately, my singing does nothing to lure darkspawn to their deaths. Otherwise this whole Grey Warden thing would be a whole lot easier.”

I tried to keep the smile up, but I felt it running away from my face in a hurry the more we talked about my father, especially in the past tense.

Teagan let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, I’m sure you’re quite right.”  
“Are you… sure you have the right Scarlett Cousland?” Alistair asked.  
“Oh yes. He simply could not stop singing the praises of his oh-so-talented daughter.” Teagan smiled. “Won’t you sing us a song?”  
“Oh you must!” Isolde pleaded.  
“...That’s really more Leliana’s thing. I’m sure she’d be all too happy to—”  
“Nonsense! We must hear this voice of yours. Your father would not have it any other way. Please, Lady Cousland. These halls have heard nothing but sadness and despair for so long. Let us fill them with something beautiful.”

Welp, looks like I wasn’t getting out of this one. How could I say no to that? I stood up from my chair and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and thought about what the heck would be appropriate for the occasion. Then I remembered Leliana’s advice… That I’d need to use something other than talking to express my feelings for Alistair. And then the song became all too clear.

I kept my eyes closed and I drew breath and the first few words escaped my throat:

_How long have I been in this storm?_

The reverberation from the stone walls surrounding us made my voice sound ten times bigger than it was, but I had to admit, it did sound pretty.

 _So overwhelmed by the ocean’s shapeless form_  
_Water’s getting harder to tread_  
_With these waves crashing over my head_

I slowly opened my eyes and made sure they found Alistair’s. And I sang only to him. Maker, it felt so silly at first but I just felt the words and kept staring into those hazel eyes and I was just… carried away to somewhere else. A place where no one existed but he and I. And it was beautiful.

 _If I could just see you_  
_Everything would be alright_  
_If I’d see you_  
_This darkness would turn to light_

 _And I will walk on water_  
_And you will catch me if I fall_  
_And I will get lost into your eyes_  
_I’ll know everything will be alright_  
_I’ll know everything is alright_

 _I know you didn’t bring me out here to drown_  
_So why am I ten feet under and upside down_  
_Barely surviving has become my purpose_  
_Cause I’m so used to living underneath the surface_

 _If I could just see you_  
_Everything would be alright_  
_If I’d see you_  
_This darkness would turn to light_

I noticed Teagan lean over to Alistair and whisper something in his ear. Alistair turned a bright shade of red. What did he say, I wondered. It would have to wait. No stopping now.

 _And I will walk on water_  
_And you will catch me if I fall_  
_And I will get lost into your eyes_  
_I’ll know everything will be alright_  
_I’ll know everything... is... alright_

And that was that. I sheepishly sat back down and silently thanked the Maker my voice didn’t crack and I remembered all the words. Then silence. Stunned silence. Great. Not awkward at all.

“I—” I began in an attempt to break the silence, but I was interrupted by Zevran hopping out of his chair and clapping as loudly and obnoxiously as he could. Then Teagan joined in, followed by a diffident Isolde, then Connor, Wynne, and Leliana. Morrigan and Sten… well, I knew better than to expect anything from them, and Alistair was just sitting in his seat, mouth slightly agape. I guess he got the message. Or, at least, I hoped he had. Time would tell.

Before long the time came to retire to our rooms, and thank the Maker for that. It had been a very, very long day, but I couldn’t go to bed before going back to that library. I took a small candelabra from my room and decided to spend a few hours getting lost in a good book before sleep.

The library was even more beautiful at night. Several candles lit the main hallway on either side and between them and the moonlight, the room had the most magnificent glow. I walked all the way down to the end of the hall, set the candelabra down on a small nearby table, and attempted to make my selection—not an easy task. I could no sooner choose a favorite star among the night sky.

When I finally pulled one from the shelf, I could hear footsteps approaching.

“I thought I might find you here.” Alistair greeted. I jumped a little before turning around to see him.  
“You know me too well, it seems.” I smiled shyly. From what I could see in the dim candlelight, he gave me a warm, wide smile back.  
“Can’t sleep?” He asked. As he slowly, deliberately made his way down the hallway, he licked his thumb and index finger and began to extinguish each candle as he drew closer.

“I could probably sleep for a year at this point but… this place was too beautiful to ignore.”  
“I believe I know just what you mean.” I couldn’t be sure with the main aisle as dark as it now was, but I think he gave me another smile. But this was not your typical Alistair smile. This was something else. Something… hungry. I quickly turned back around to face the bookshelf. I don’t entirely know why but I was feeling extremely timid and a little embarrassed. I just couldn’t bring myself to face him.

“That song you sang before…” he began. I just remained quiet and let the butterflies in my stomach grow larger and larger with each nearing footstep. “Was it for me?” he asked.  
“I…”

Subject change, Scarlett. A subject change would be good here!

“I noticed Teagan whispering to you. What did he say?”  
“He said…” He was so close now I could feel the hot breath from his whispers tickling the back of my neck, “‘When a woman looks at you like that, it usually means something.’”

I felt the goosebumps begin to raise all over my exposed flesh. Then I felt his hands slipping around my waist. Maker’s breath, was this really happening?

“Did it? ...Mean something?” I felt him inhaling the scent of my hair as he pulled me even closer to him. I still couldn’t force myself to turn around. All I could manage was a slow nod. Then he continued that torturous, seductive whispering into my ear.

“I know it might sound strange considering we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’ve come to… care for you… a great deal. I think maybe it’s because we’ve gone through so much together, I don’t know… Or maybe I’m fooling myself…” Then I felt him let out a slow, hot breath against my skin before I felt his lips begin to trail their way from my exposed shoulder to my neck. I closed my eyes and my breathing grew heavier with each gentle kiss.

“Am I?” he asked between the gentle brushes of his lips against my skin. “Fooling myself?”

I turned around to face him and reached up and removed the comb from my hair, letting the long tresses come tumbling down in loose waves. I leaned in, my face less than an inch away from his and whispered “No” against his lips. Then he closed the gap between us and slowly, gently brushed his full, perfectly shaped lips against mine. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I was feeling anything but shy now, and that soft brush of lips just wasn’t enough. I hungrily sucked his mouth into mine and he pulled me tighter against him, immersing his fingers in my loose hair and holding my mouth to his. My tongue slipped past my lips and found his, testing, unsure strokes at first, then dancing together in slow, tantalizing circles. I heard him moan softly into my mouth and it made things low in my body tighten and ache. It took every ounce of willpower I had in me not to drag him back to my room right then and there, but I knew Alistair. I knew he’d want to move slowly. He was a gentleman. It was actually one of my favorite things about him.

When the kiss broke, I was breathless, my chest heaving and almost spilling out of the confines of the dress. He loosened his grip on my hair as he whispered against my lips, “Maker’s breath but you’re beautiful. I am a lucky man.”

I smiled against the curve of his lips, then I leaned down to blow the remaining candles out.


	11. Reality Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overtaken by guilt and an oppressing sense of duty, Scarlett realizes there is no room in her life for empty affairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Trouble in paradise. Kudos and comments appreciated!

And then, when my joy was at its zenith, when all seemed absolutely right and wonderful in the world… reality began to set in. What in the Maker’s name did I think I was doing? I couldn’t be a fair and just leader while I was feeling… whatever it is I was feeling toward Alistair. I had to remain objective. I had to remain vigilant. And more than anything… I didn’t really think I deserved happiness. Last night had been one of the most magical, most perfect nights I’d ever known. Meanwhile, my mother and father were lying cold and lonely in their shallow graves, my brother was Maker knows where—though in all likelihood he’d met the same fate—and my childhood home was nothing more than rubble. How dare I feel anything but sorrow and regret?

On top of all that, Alistair was next in line to rule Ferelden. He could deny it until he was blue in the face; I knew it was coming. There was no future for me with him. As we all know, leading this little ragtag bunch of misfits was the last thing I wanted. What was I going to do? Become queen? Fat chance.

How could I have been so blind? So foolhardy? It all started with him giving me that blasted rose and everything since has been aftermath. He’d set my heart afire when he awoke me that morning, and then the song and the moonlight and the candles and… well… where it all led. It was like something right out of a storybook. Face it, Scarlett. It was time to grow up. It was time to stop believing in fairy tales.

I splashed some cold water on my face before I went to gather the others. The road to Denerim would be long indeed. I knocked on Leliana’s door first.

“Good morning.” She taunted with a slow grin. “I’d ask how you slept but I happen to know you and a certain someone were up rather late.”  
“Let’s just… not go there. Would you please wake him for me?”  
Her brows arched with concern as her face fell. “Oh no… what happened?”   
“I really don’t want to talk about it. I just can’t face him right now. Please wake him. I’ll get the others.”  
“But—”  
“Leliana. Please.” I interrupted sternly. She nodded and went to go get him. Then I knocked on Sten’s door.

“What are you playing at?” he asked in his usual grumpy manner.  
“Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine.”  
“You sat there last night and you drank wine and sang songs while our enemies grow stronger and the Blight draws closer. You are a foolish, foolish girl.”

Great. This was just what I needed. And you know what? I couldn’t even argue with him.

“You’re right.” I admitted.  
“That… is not what I expected to hear.”  
“Yes, well, I’ve had some time to reflect this morning. I have something of a… renewed focus.”  
“Good.” Was all he said in return. You know Sten—always so verbose. Zevran was next. Oh goody.

“Good morrow, my little songbird.”  
“I’m not your little anything. But good morning.”  
“Oooh so feisty at this early hour. I like it. Alas, you made it abundantly clear last night to whom your heart belongs. You cut me to the core!”  
“Zevran, have I ever led you on in any way, shape, or form? Given you any reason to believe I was even remotely romantically interested in you?”  
“Bah. Mere trivialities, my tall drink of water.”  
“Yikes. Your pet names could really use some work, Zev.” And with that I left to get Wynne.

“Good morning, child.”  
“Morning.” I tried my best to give her a smile but I just was not feeling it.  
“You look… ashen. Are you ill?” She reached to feel my forehead. Oy. What did she think I was? Four?  
“I’m fine. We’re getting ready to head out.”  
“You can’t fool these old eyes. Something is wrong.”  
“I appreciate your concern, Wynne, I really do. But I really just want to get moving.”  
“As you wish. I am here should you need anything.” I gave her a nod and headed over to Morrigan.

“I need to speak with you.” She demanded as soon as I opened the door.  
“Oh. That doesn’t sound ominous at all. Is everything alright?” I asked.  
“I have been studying Flemeth’s grimoire. Do you wish to hear what I have found?”  
“Um… sure. Lay it on me.”  
“Tis… not what I expected. I had hoped for a collection of her spells. A map of the power she commands. But this is not it.”  
“You’re disappointed then, I take it.”  
“No, there is much of interest within her writing. Things I did not know. And one in particular I would never have suspected. Here, in great detail, Flemeth explains the means by which she has survived for centuries.”  
“… I’m listening.”

She went on to explain that Flemeth basically raises daughters only to inhabit their bodies when her current one grows too old and weak. What a classy lady.

“If that’s the case, why would she send you with us?”  
“I do not know. Tis possible she sees the darkspawn as a threat just as anyone else does. Or tis possible she thought the journey would make me more powerful. According to the tome, if the vessel is already powerful and trained in magic, it takes far less time for Flemeth to… settle in.”  
“This is beyond disturbing; you know that?”  
“I do indeed.” She paused for a moment and, I swear to the Maker, it seemed like she was about to lose her composure. I even saw some tears welling up in her eyes, although they never fell. “I am sorry. This simply takes me by surprise. I would have thought I would have had some inkling… some notion…”

I had never ever seen her this… vulnerable. The only mother she’d ever known had only kept her around to eventually use her as window dressing. She meant nothing to Flemeth. That had to hurt, even someone as shatterproof as Morrigan. It made me feel for her. It made me want to help her.

“I… I’m sorry, Morrigan. I don’t know what else to say.”  
“Do not be sorry. I am not. I am angry. There is only one possible response to this: Flemeth needs to die. And I need your help to do it.”

Ah. Of course.

“Didn’t you just tell me how that book outlines, in rather excessive detail, that she cannot do that very thing?”  
“True, she will not be gone forever. But we will… slow her down.”  
“And why do you need me to do the slaying, exactly? You seem more than capable.”  
“Because if she is slain while I am near, I am not certain that she will not just take possession of me right there. So obviously, I cannot be the one to do it.”  
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.  
“My life is on the line here. I would not ask this of you if I did not trust you. Please. Do not make me beg.”  
“I don’t wish you any harm, Morrigan. I really don’t. But I need to devote all of our time to securing those alliances.”  
“Oh, all of your precious time? You seemed to have no problem wasting time helping those mages trapped in the tower. And those villagers whom you did not even know. Or traveling all the way to the Circle to save that boy when you could have ended that impertinent woman’s life and been done with it.” She spat her words at me as though they were poison. After a moment had passed, her tone softened, “I had begun to see you as something of a friend. Do not betray that.”

I hung my head and sighed. All good points, but this was doing nothing for my attempt at so-called “objective leadership.”

“Very well. If we have reason to head back that way, I will do this for you.”  
“I suppose I will have to take you at your word.”  
“I suppose you will.” I left her room and went to retrieve Meatball from the kennels.

And so our journey began as they so often did. I was in the front with Meatball at my side and Alistair was behind me—much to my chagrin. I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding him forever. I couldn’t even meet his eyes when he said good morning; I just stared at my feet and uttered something I’m not even sure was remotely intelligible as human speech. Ugh. What a nightmare.

I knew the others were behind me in some order or other, but looking back meant I had to look in Alistair’s direction—something I’d been avoiding like the plague. We walked mostly in silence. Between Alistair sensing something was wrong between us, Leliana knowing something was wrong between Alistair and I, Wynne thinking I was falling ill, and Morrigan’s thoughts lingering on Flemeth, I guess no one was really in the mood for small talk. Fancy that.

When we stopped for a rest, Alistair cornered me.

“…What is going on? I expected a little awkwardness but this is… something else. Isn’t it?”  
“We need to keep moving.” was all I offered.  
“You can’t keep ignoring me. Talk to me. Please.” He grabbed my hand and I made the somewhat fatal mistake of looking into his eyes, and I could feel my heart beginning to break in two. Maker’s breath, it was one blasted kiss! …Alright, a few more than one. But still! Why was this so difficult?!

I let go of his hand as though I were touching a hot stove. “Not here. We’ll talk when we set up camp, alright?” It was the best I could do.  
“Fine.”

A little further down the road we saw a bunch of soldiers ganging up on one isolated man. Not cool. We had the high ground and remained unnoticed so I took the time to look at the man a little closer. He looked… familiar. He was wearing the uniform of King Cailan’s honor guard. I think… yes… I remembered him from Ostagar.

Rather than charging immediately, I decided to see how the situation played out. Before I could even process what happened, one of the guards ran the man through with his sword. The phrase ‘he who hesitates is lost’ immediately sprung to mind. Maker, could I do nothing right?!

I ran down to see if we could do anything to save him.

I knelt beside him and asked, “Hello? Can you hear me? I want to help you.”  
“Thank you. I didn’t expect the Bann’s men to notice my escape so quickly. I tried to hide here in the woods, but there wasn’t time. And now I’m a dead man.”  
“Wynne, is there anything you can do?”  
“Unfortunately not. Not for a wound this severe. All we can do now is ease his passing. I’m sorry.”  
I hung my head in defeat. “I’m sorry. I should have charged sooner. I didn’t think…”  
“Shhh. I know your face. You were there in Ostagar. You know how things went. For me, it was either this, or die in some darkspawn’s belly or… or be hanged as a deserter.”  
“You’re a deserter?” I asked.  
“I daresay people think the same of you and me. If not worse.” Alistair offered. True enough.  
“I fled the battlefield when Loghain betrayed us. I abandoned my men, and they died, and Cailan with them. He was my king, my friend. He entrusted me with the key to the royal arms chest. If anything were to happen to him, he said, it was vital I deliver it to the Wardens.” Interesting.  
“Do you still have this key?”  
“I was afraid. I thought I would lose it on the battlefield, so I stashed it in the camp. Please—it’s probably still there, behind a loose stone at the base of a statue. I’ll draw you a map.”  
“You’ll be taking me along, won’t you? Call me sentimental, but I left behind some darkspawn that really deserve a sword through the middle.” Alistair requested.  
“The events at Ostagar still haunt my thoughts, Warden. If that is where we are headed, I would like to accompany you.” I guess Wynne was having trouble forgetting what happened after all.

The dying man went on to explain that there were some important documents of Cailan’s that could do a lot of damage if they were to fall into the wrong hands before he passed. And although I am the first to admit I did not agree with the way Cailan handled things at Ostagar, he was my king. He was Alistair’s brother. He deserved better than to be left there to rot.

I nodded. “Ostagar it is. And before any of you protest and say this is not important, let me be the first to remind you that a rather large faction of the darkspawn horde invaded that very spot. Slaying the ones who remain there will mean a substantial blow to their forces. Not to mention these documents of Cailan’s. We need to get to those before Loghain does. Maker knows what he’ll do with them.”

Sten grunted but I suppose he couldn’t argue with my logic. One point for me.

“I am all too happy to head that way. I do recall someone giving me her word that she would take care of something for me there, should we return.” Morrigan reminded me in her uniquely patronizing tone.

Brilliant. Walked right into that one, didn’t I?

All too soon the sun was beginning to set and Maker, was I dreading setting up camp. Not only because of my exceedingly stubborn tent, but because I knew it meant I had to face Alistair. Ah, speak of the demon…

“Well, we’re in camp.”  
“That we are.” I nodded.  
“Care to tell me why you’ve all but ignored me all day?”  
I took a deep breath and tried my damndest to muster the courage to explain. “I… I’ve come to the realization that last night was a mistake.” The words sounded so uncaring I was tempted to look in a mirror to ensure I hadn’t suddenly turned into Morrigan.

“A mistake…” he repeated, his face long and crestfallen.  
“Yes, I’m sorry.”  
“But you… I…” he stammered.  
“I know. It was foolish of me. I didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did. I became so wrapped up in fantasy that I lost sight of reality.”  
“But it wasn’t a fantasy. It actually happened… and it was wonderful.” He uttered the last part barely above a whisper. “You can’t tell me you felt nothing for me last night. I know you did. I saw that look in your eyes when you sang to me. I felt you.”  
“What I may or may not have felt last night doesn’t matter. You and Morrigan so generously elected me to lead this expedition, remember? I cannot carry on with you and effectively do my job. I will not jeopardize this mission because of some school girl crush.”

He furrowed his brow and looked utterly confused, hints of anger playing across his face.

“You know what I think? I don’t think this is about your ability to lead at all. This is about control.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Yes you do. For the briefest of moments last night your precious walls came tumbling down and you let me in. You let me see the real you. And it was genuine and passionate and powerful. And the very thought of you losing control with someone terrifies you.”

I just stared at him with wide eyes. Where the heck was this coming from?

“I… No. No. You’re way off the mark here.”  
“No, I don’t believe I am. You’re thinking you can stop this before it starts because the future is uncertain and you can’t handle that. So what do you do? You end it, because that’s the only way you know you can control it. Well guess what, Scarlett? This thing between you and I, it’s already started. You can’t undo it. You can’t control it.”

Now he was starting to make me angry. How dare he presume to know me? I could have fit everything he didn’t know about me in a bag the size of Zevran’s ego. Rather than continue the argument, I just went over to my tent (which I managed to cobble together myself this time, thankyouverymuch), grabbed the rose, and extended it to him.

“You gave this to the wrong girl.” I declared obstinately.  
He let out a brief, harsh laugh. “It was a gift.” He pushed my arm back toward my torso. “Keep it.”

And then he left camp and I didn’t see him again for the rest of the night.


	12. Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to Ostagar is depressing enough, and it's only made worse with the new fracture in Scarlett's and Alistair's relationship. Will they find a way to make amends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments and kudos are most welcome!

He did the same thing the next night and the night after that and the night following. Whenever we stopped traveling to set up camp he just… disappeared into the darkness. I had to admit that despite everything, despite all my tries to be responsible and put a stop to… whatever might have happened between us, I missed him terribly. There were no more chats by the fire. No more practical jokes or witty repartee. No more comforting hugs when my nightmares became too much to handle. I was trying so damn hard to do the right thing—to stop trouble before it even started. I just… hadn’t anticipated losing my best friend in the process. I’d spent that first night after our argument and every night since silently sobbing into my bedroll, clinging to the rose he gave me as my only solace. It was horrible when I’d lost my family. There was a feeling of emptiness inside of me then like I’d never known. In the time since I’d met him, Alistair was beginning to fill that emptiness, and now he was gone. Even though I was almost always surrounded by people nowadays, I had never felt so alone in all my life. 

The morning after we’d finally reached Ostagar, Leliana visited my tent.  
“May I come in?” she asked shyly.  
“Knock yourself out.”  
“Maker… have you not been sleeping at all?” she asked. I grabbed my little mirror and looked at myself. My eyes were all bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. I guess crying yourself to sleep a few nights in a row does nothing to keep up your youthful appearance. 

“It’s not for lack of trying. I promise.”  
“I… spoke with Alistair.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just gave her the most vacant, disinterested stare I could manage.  
“He says you… ended things.”  
“I didn’t end anything because nothing had begun.”  
“That is not how he sees it.”  
“Yes, well… it would appear he and I don’t see eye to eye on much of anything lately.”  
“I know you care for him, Scarlett. Why do you fight this so?”  
“I’m doing what is right. What is necessary.”  
“What is necessary is our leader being well-rested and clear-headed and, dare I say it, happy. We have all felt your sorrow these past few days. It is doing nothing for our spirits.”  
“I’m sorry if my depression has caused some sort of inconvenience for you all.” I said bitterly.  
“That is not what I meant and you know it.”  
I sighed. “I’m sorry. That was unworthy of me. This isn’t your fault.”  
“All I ask is that you weigh the consequences of this decision. By you and Alistair sequestering yourselves from one another, you both suffer needlessly.”  
“There are so many reasons he and I shouldn’t be together, Leliana. I’m not even sure I can count that high.”  
“Perhaps the time has come for you to stop listening to that big brain of yours and to start listening to your heart. Some things you can’t think or reason your way through. Some things you have to feel.”  
“My feelings have always led to nothing but trouble.”  
“Probably because you keep suppressing them.” Touché.  
“I… I’ll consider what you’ve said, okay? I can’t promise it will change anything, but I hear you.” She nodded in acknowledgment and left. 

I crawled out of my tent to face the day and its inevitable cruelties. Ostagar held nothing but bad memories for Wynne, Alistair, and I. I knew returning there was a necessary evil, but Maker was I not looking forward to it. 

I didn’t even bother eating. My stomach was in knots as it was—adding food to the mix was likely a bad idea. 

“Alistair, Wynne, Leliana. Gather your things, please. I’d like to head out as soon as possible.” 

I heard the rustling of supplies for a few minutes before they met up to join me.

“Ready when you are.” Alistair confirmed.  
“Splendid. Let’s get this over with.” I muttered under my breath. 

When we arrived at the gates, everything was covered in ash. It was as though a volcano had erupted and nothing was left in its wake. And cold. Maker, was it freezing. Somehow it felt about forty degrees colder than camp had earlier this morning. Maybe it had something to do with all those darkspawn concentrated in one spot, I don’t know. The whole place seemed like something from a Fade nightmare—everything shrouded in shades of white, grey, and black. There was an inexorable feeling of utter hopelessness and anguish and misery everywhere I looked. Maker have mercy on us all. 

“Something about being here makes me feel old, Wynne.” Alistair admitted.  
“And just what are you implying, Alistair?”  
“What? No, nothing. I just thought—”  
“You just thought I might be an expert at feeling old and could share some sage advice.” She assumed bitterly. Oh, I was definitely staying out of this one.  
“I just mean that I was… a different person then. I believed him, you know? That it would be a glorious battle. That we’d win.”  
“I did too.” She offered gently. “We were all a little bit younger the last time we were here.” 

The Alistair I knew would not have missed this golden opportunity to joke with Wynne about her age. To add some levity to such a dreary situation. But nothing came. No quips, no jests. It made the dismal mood of the place feel even more suffocating and inescapable. 

As it turns out, I was not wrong about the number of darkspawn that remained there. They had complete run of the place and they were not about to give it up easily. There were literally mobs of them, and we were feeling mighty outnumbered. Still, we felt we had something to prove. We felt we owed it to our fallen comrades to retake this place and rid it of the darkspawn’s filth. It made us fight harder. Even when exhaustion should have overtaken us, even when our weapons felt heavy and impossible to wield, we fought harder still. 

As we battled our way to the location marked on the map we were given, we managed to recover pieces of Cailan’s armor and even King Maric’s sword, which was in with those secret documents we’d heard about. We found out Cailan was working on an alliance with Orlais and was also toying with the notion of replacing Anora as queen. Up to this point I was uncertain about many things, but coming here and finding this correspondence before Loghain… I was damn sure that was a good thing. 

Alistair seemed… unphased. I thought for sure it would mean something to him to find these once lost artifacts from his departed family members, but he uttered not a word. Even when we found Duncan’s sword and dagger lodged in the corpse of an ogre… nothing. 

I guess it also struck Wynne as odd that Alistair was being so silent. “What’s the matter, Alistair?” she asked tenderly.  
“I don’t know. It just feels wrong to find this here, pawed over by darkspawn and thick with their rot. It was his.”  
“I know. I feel it too. But he is not the first king to ever fall in battle, or even the first to fall to the darkspawn.”  
“Yes. But this wound cuts deeper.” He said the words with a bitterness I had never before heard escape from Alistair’s mouth. I couldn’t help but feel he was no longer just referring to Cailan’s death. It made me shudder in the worst way.  
“And it will bleed longer. But we must keep moving. No doubt the darkspawn are eager to give us plenty more reasons to mourn.”

Eventually we found ourselves crossing the bridge leading to the Tower of Ishal. It was there we found Cailan, all strung up and pallid and rotten. Merciful Andraste! It was so easy to think of darkspawn as mindless drones who knew nothing but violence and destruction. This… this wasn’t the work of something mindless. This was grotesquely deliberate. Seeing my king posed and punctured in such a way… up on display as though he were some kind of trophy for a job well done… it chilled me to the core. I wanted nothing more than to look away from the horror that was his lifeless corpse, but I knew that wasn’t an option. I had to stay strong. I owed him that much. 

For some occasions there are truly no words and I knew we had to keep moving, but I just found myself standing there, staring at the fallen king as though I were in some kind of trance. Alistair’s whisper behind me snapped me out of it. 

“Forgive us, my king. Once we’ve flushed the darkspawn from their holes and bought ourselves some time, we’ll be back to see you to the Maker.” 

His words were riddled with grief and sadness and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but I feared any sort of gesture from me would do nothing but make things worse, so I just turned away and continued across the bridge. We reached the tower, but the only way to progress was to dive into the darkspawn tunnels where we encountered all manner of fun things—humongous poisonous spiders chief among them. Darkspawn were ugly sons of bitches, but giant hairy spiders with fangs closing in on you while spewing some kind of poison? They took the cake. 

Just when I thought this little foray down memory lane could not possibly get any worse, we encountered some kind of… darkspawn necromancer who could raise other darkspawn from the dead. And who better to raise than the very ogre who robbed Cailan of his life? I know. I was pretty jazzed about it, too. 

I met the ogre with the same ferocity I’d met all the other darkspawn, but my zeal was nothing compared to Alistair’s. He grabbed on to the gargantuan creature and no matter how hard it thrashed or tried to grab at him, he hung on and landed blow after gory blow. When the time came for the killing stroke, I backed off and let him have his bloody satisfaction. Although we were all pretty damn tired after taking that sucker down, we had that necromancer to contend with. And he, of course, took it upon himself to raise a small faction of frozen skeletons to attack us. Pretty cool, right? …Get it? Cool? They were frozen? Nevermind. 

We made pretty quick work of them despite being utterly spent. 

“There it is. The last of them.” Alistair declared as he struggled to catch his breath.  
Wynne sighed. “It has been a long day. By the lines around your eyes I daresay you look as old as I.”  
“And if I may say so, my lady, you appear to be getting younger by the day.” Alistair complimented. That was… interesting. I thought I would feel a little bit of jealousy from so obvious a flirt, but I was honestly just happy to hear him say something that reminded me of his old, charming self.  
“Be careful who you flirt with, young man.” Wynne chuckled. “When you wake up beside me tomorrow morning, I’ll be back to reminding you of your grandmother.”  
“Beside you?” He asked. Oh Alistair, were you really that daft?  
“You heard what I said. It would not be the first time I awoke to a younger man in my bed.” Oh Maker. Don’t laugh. You just fought horrors beyond imagination and have yet to lay Cailan to rest. Don’t you dare laugh, Scarlett. I fought it with everything I could.  
“Are all women this evil and conniving when they grow old?” he asked, clearly insulted by Wynne’s insinuation.  
“Just me, my dear. Just me.” I did manage to stifle the laugh, but I couldn’t help but let a soft smile play across my lips.  
“Well, well. I haven’t seen a smile grace that pretty face of yours in ages, my dear.” Wynne noticed.  
“I haven’t had much to be happy about of late, I’m afraid.” I admitted. Alistair’s eyes fell to the ground. “We should get back to the tunnels. They would appear to be the only way out of here.” I suggested, suddenly all business. 

We returned to Cailan’s body and built him a pyre. It wasn’t much—certainly less than a king deserved—but it was the best we could do. Leliana sang a bittersweet song as we watched him burn, then we headed back to camp. 

…

When the time came I tried my damndest to let sleep overtake me, but every time I closed my eyes I saw Cailan bruised and broken and lifeless. We’d faced all kinds of terrible things up until this point, but for some reason seeing him that way really did a number on my subconscious. Maybe it was because he was the first person of significance I’d seen dead that I’d known in life. Receiving his greeting at the gates of Ostagar somehow felt like it occurred both eons and minutes ago. Although we had laid him to rest, the disturbing image of his crucifixion remained burned onto my retinas. And so, out to the fire I went. 

“You… you’re here. I didn’t think—” the shock was quite apparent in my tone.  
“I see your powers of observation continue to serve you well.” Alistair was sitting on the ground near my tent and stoking the fire. “Can’t sleep again?”  
“Not a wink. I keep seeing… him.” I sighed and sat down beside him in front of my tent.  
He nodded silently. “Going back there, I was expecting to… I don’t know. Find a sense of closure or something. I thought destroying those filthy things that killed Cailan and Duncan would make me feel better. It didn’t. Do you know what I found instead?”  
“No, I don’t.” I admitted quietly, unable to meet his eyes.  
“Loneliness. Finding Maric’s sword and Cailan’s armor and Duncan’s weapons… all it did was remind me of how truly alone I am. How the few people who might have given a damn about me on this earth have all been wiped out.”  
“You know that’s not true.”  
“Isn’t it?” 

I went back to my tent and rummaged around until I found the amulet. I came back out, sat beside him, and extended it to him in my open palm.

“This… this is my mother’s amulet. It has to be. But it isn’t broken. Where did you find this?”  
“Back in Redcliffe. In Eamon’s study.”  
“Then he must have… found it and repaired it and kept it. I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”  
“It would appear you have more people who care about you than you might think.” I offered gently.  
“I… guess you could be right.” He pondered. “Thank you. I mean it. I thought I’d lost this to my own stupidity.” After a moment’s pause, he asked “…Did you really remember me mentioning it? It feels so long ago and I’d only said it in passing… I can’t believe—”  
“Of course I remembered. I…” My voice became a quiet whisper. “I care about you, too.” I closed my eyes and hung my head. He placed two fingers under my chin and made my eyes meet his.  
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here. Being near you… I couldn’t… All I kept thinking about was how right it felt to have you in my arms. Maker, it’s been days and I can still taste you on my lips.”

Fight it, Scarlett. Take the high road. Nevermind the needful look in those hazel eyes. Don’t remember the brush of unadulterated joy you felt that night back in Redcliffe. How amazing it was to feel his body against yours… his lips trailing across your skin… Mayday. Mayday! 

“We umm… we should probably try to get some rest. We have another tough day ahead of us tomorrow.”  
“Yes, I wanted to ask you about that.” Subject change was a success. Yes! “What was Morrigan talking about? That you gave your word to her about something?”  
“I told her I’d help her with a problem. It’s… a matter of life and death.” Was all I offered.  
Alistair let out a slight laugh and shook his head. “Always trying to save everyone, aren’t you?”  
“Well, it’s a tough job but, someone has to do it.”  
“And what about you?”  
“What about me?” I asked.  
“Even saviors need saving.” He began to lean into me as I saw that hungry look reappear in his eyes; that same look I’d seen that night in the library.  
“I don’t deserve salvation.” I insisted as I turned away from him and stared back into the fire.  
“You know that’s not true.” He whispered into my ear. “Please, Scarlett. Let someone rescue you for a change.”

I closed my eyes and felt those familiar goosebumps raise across my skin. And then it happened. I just… let go. My regret. My guilt. My sense of duty and responsibility. I let it all just fall by the wayside as I turned my head and crushed my lips against his as though they were a current I could no longer struggle against. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him so tightly that we fell backwards into the opening of my tent, but the kiss never broke. He sucked my tongue into his mouth and I could feel his growing excitement through our pants as I cradled him between my legs. I let a low groan escape into his mouth as he moved down from my lips to my jaw, then my throat, then my collarbone, then lower and lower until he found the drawstring of my blouse. 

“Scarlett…” he whispered breathlessly against my skin as he grabbed the string between his teeth. “Tell me to stop…” he pulled the string open with his mouth ever so slowly. My breathing grew quicker as I felt the cool night air and his hot breath tickle my newly exposed flesh. Maker have mercy, he felt so good. This felt so right. 

“I… I can’t.” I ran my fingers through his hair as his mouth began to wander across my chest. 

And then… boom. The tent collapsed right on top of us.

“Maker’s breath! Are you alright?” he asked, the genuine concern apparent in his tone. 

And I started to laugh—and not some little titter. A deep laugh. The kind that makes your whole body shake. The kind that leaves your stomach tight and achy when you finally manage to stop. I couldn’t help it. The whole situation was just hilarious. 

“You… you assembled this thing yourself tonight didn’t you? It just reeks of your handiwork.” He joined in my laughter as all I could do was nod and continue my giggle fit. He rolled off and laid on his side next to me. I turned to face him and he ran the back of his hand down my cheek. 

“I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear your laugh again.” He smiled warmly. Then my thoughts turned to more… serious matters.  
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Alistair.” I offered as my smile began to fade. “I just… there are a lot of reasons why this won’t work… you know that, don’t you?” I tried to explain as gently as I could.

He found my hand, laced his fingers with mine, and kissed the back of it softly. 

“No, I don’t. I know the feel of your skin against my lips. I know the shy look in your eyes when I tell you how beautiful you are. I know the color of the blush that paints your skin when you’re flustered. I know the sound of your voice when you whisper my name. That’s enough for me. That’s all I need to know.” 

And with that he closed the gap between us and kissed me slowly, passionately. Well then. Who was I to argue with that?


	13. Willful Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett seems to have finally found happiness, and she fully intends to make good on her promise to Morrigan. But is her newfound joy clouding her judgment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for your comments and kudos! I appreciate each and every one!

After Alistair’s and my little… “talk”, I managed to fall asleep rather easily. I don’t even recall being plagued with nightmares, as I had grown so accustomed to. Imagine that. When I awoke the next morning I found myself… smiling like a fool. I just couldn’t help it. Reality was still there, still oppressive, still trying to rain on my parade, but this time I just chose to ignore it. You know what? Sod it. Ignorance truly is bliss.

When I breathed in the morning air I could smell something… I think… yes, it may have once been edible, burning over the fire outside my tent.

“Really?! Don’t we know better by now than to let Alistair cook?” I called out. I didn’t even have to see outside to know the mess was his doing. Maker bless him.

“Hey! This was hardly my fault. Bacon is a cruel and fickle mistress!” he called back.

I crawled out of my tent and sat on the ground when Meatball came to greet me. I scratched behind his ears and ruffled his fur.

“Oh, I suppose you could have done better.” Alistair regarded the dog. Meatball just responded with his typical happy bark and a wagging tail.

“Ah so, recovered from our little spat, have we?” Morrigan asked.  
“I’d say they did more than recover.” Zevran offered suggestively. “I could hear everything. The familiar sounds of sweet, sweet love-making. There was even an audible crash during the climax. Bravo, my young friends.”  
“That was my tent collapsing, you idiot. There was no bloody climax.” Alright, I admit it. I can get mean when I’m embarrassed.  
“Ahh, so the young prince left you unsatisfied. A predicament I would happily remedy.”

Alistair and I both shot scolding glares in Zevran’s direction. He remained undeterred. “My offer still stands.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to petting Meatball as Leliana returned from her stroll in the woods.

“I managed to find some blackberries.” She offered.  
“Excellent. I hear blackberries are the perfect side dish to accompany charred soot.” I smirked.  
“Why, Scarlett Cousland. Was that… it was. It was a joke!”  
“Yes, yes, laugh it up. It’s true. I’m no longer a miserable, moody husk of a human being. There, I admit it.”  
“Thank the Maker for that!” Leliana exclaimed. Ugh, I so missed privacy.

After breakfast I made my way over to Morrigan. Before going on this fool’s errand, I had to be sure. There could be no room for doubt.

“Morrigan, forgive me but, I must ask: Do you really want your mother dead?”  
“I can see why you might ask this, despite knowing the fate she has in store for me. The truth is that no… under normal circumstances I would not turn against my mother so. For all that she is not the picture of maternal love, I wish her no ill will. But, Flemeth herself taught me long ago, once you know your enemy, strike quickly and without mercy. Were our positions reversed, she would no doubt do exactly the same.”  
“So, just to clarify, you’re telling me there is no possible way this could be a misunderstanding. You absolutely could not have misread the contents of that book?”  
“I know my mother well. I knew from the moment I read that tome that this is what she had intended from the start; old questions were suddenly answered. You can have doubt if you wish. I have none.”  
“Alright, fine. We both know she isn’t some frail old woman. Give it to me straight: What can I expect?”  
“Flemeth is a shapeshifter, just as I.”  
“Okay, good to know. Anything else in her bag of tricks?”  
“Deception and bribery, but those are pretty standard fare. She will likely try to bargain with you. I implore you, do not give in.”  
I nodded. “Okay, so be on the lookout for her to change shape and don’t take bribes. Seems simple enough.”  
“Flemeth’s power is ancient and strong. Do not underestimate her.” She warned. “I need her real grimoire to ensure I can defend myself against her in the future. Do not leave that hut without it.”  
“Got it.” I paused, “…There’s nothing else I need to know?”  
“No.”

Boy, that answer came quick. I did want to help Morrigan but for some reason, there was this nagging feeling that I just couldn’t shake—she was holding something back. She was my friend… or something like it. She wouldn’t go out of her way to hurt me or put me in danger, right? …Right?

“All that remains to be seen is whether you will fulfill your promise.”  
“My word is good, Morrigan. If I say I’ll do something, I intend to follow through.”  
“Then I am relieved. Please take care of this as soon as possible… the waiting is driving me nearly mad.”

Welp, I guess that was that. I left her and went over to my tent and grabbed my whetstone. I found a boulder to sit on near the edge of the woods and began running it across my sword. It wasn't long before Alistair managed to find me.

“Please tell me you’ve just been busy and you’re not ignoring me again...” He sat down beside me and couldn’t even meet my eyes. The look on his face tore at my heart. He was… scared. I really must have hurt him.

I left my sword resting across my lap and leaned over to gently brush my lips across his. He gave me a slow smile and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.

“Good. There was no way I was going to let you get away this time.” I smiled back and he took that as an invitation to kiss me again, but deeper this time. Things became very heated very, very quickly and I had to put my hands against his chest to stop him.

“Whoa. Whoa. Large, sharp, pointy object. Right in my lap. Remember?” I smirked.  
“Right, sorry. You uh… you have a way of making me get carried away.” He blushed slightly.  
“The feeling is very mutual, trust me.” I kissed his red cheek softly and went back to sharpening my blade.

“So, you didn’t give me a whole lot of details on this Morrigan thing.”  
“I know you don’t particularly care for Morrigan. I wasn’t even planning on taking you along.”  
“Or, you know, you could tell me what’s going on and let me decide for myself.”  
“I mean, I suppose I could but… I don’t think you’re going to like it.”  
“Try me.” He implored.  
“We have to kill Flemeth.” I deadpanned.  
“Sorry, I must have something in my ear.” He stuck his finger in and wiggled it about a bit. “I thought I heard you say Morrigan wants us to kill her mother.”

I explained the situation and why Morrigan felt such drastic measures were necessary.

“Wow… that’s… wow.” Was all he could offer.  
I nodded. “Wow indeed. So, there it is. I made a promise. I intend to keep it. End of story.”  
“Why even make such a promise? How could you possibly care for someone like that?”  
“Someone a bit aloof and distant with a penchant for practicality and a sharp wit? Gee, I don’t know, Alistair. How does one grow to care for someone like that?” I smirked.  
“Oh please! Never make that comparison again. You are nothing like her.”  
“She’s in trouble and she needs my help so I’m going to give it to her. As I said, you’re welcome to stay behind.”  
“Well… I haven’t missed a fight at your side yet. I don’t intend to start now. Besides,” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice, “I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but the way you handle that sword… it’s incredibly sexy. I’d hate to miss it.”

I had to laugh out loud. “Oh boy, you sure do know how to sweet talk a lady.”  
“What can I say? They didn’t call me the ‘silver-tongued demon’ back at the monastery for nothing.”  
I could only shake my head as my laughter quelled. “You’re not fooling me for a second.” I ran my fingertip along the edge of my sword. Once I found it was satisfactory I got up from the boulder and sheathed it.

“So, I’d like your opinion. If you were about to fight an immortal with ancient power beyond all reckoning, who would you take with you?”  
“Well, we do have several tools for the job, but if it were up to me, I’d take the heaviest hammer for this particular nail.”  
I nodded. “Sten it is. And I suppose Wynne might be useful. I don’t know what Flemeth is going to throw our way but having someone along with healing magic definitely won’t hurt.”  
“Agreed. And Morrigan herself, of course.”  
“Morrigan… is not coming.” I admitted almost inaudibly.  
“WHAT?! Not only does she want us to do the impossible but she wants it done without her help?!”  
“Hey, I wouldn’t call this ‘impossible.’ The way Morrigan explained it the task seems rather straightforward. She has shapeshifting capabilities and she’s clever. If those are her only two weapons, I don’t think this fight will be all that problematic.”  
“She’s asking you to risk a lot on faith here.”  
I nodded. “I know. But fool that I am, I’m willing to trust her. In these dark and uncertain times, a little faith can go a long way. Wouldn’t you agree?”  
“You’re spending too much time with Leliana.” He scoffed. “The Scarlett I’ve come to know would never leap without looking like this.”  
“Well, I’m trying to be more… I don’t know. Open, I guess. If I keep shutting everyone and everything out, if I always play it safe, there’s no way we can win this. It’s… actually an approach inspired by you…” I admitted.  
“By me? What did I do?”  
“Well… you’ve made me realize that not every situation can be looked at with an ice-cold eye. Sometimes you need to go the extra mile for people. Like you did with Isolde and Connor. You had every reason to hate her and you begged me to go out of our way to save her life. I’ve come to realize that people matter. If I lose sight of that, what in the Maker’s name makes this fight worthwhile?”

He just stared at me, his mouth slightly agape.

“…What?” I stared back at him, utterly confused.

And he pulled me close and kissed me as hard as he could.

“Wow,” I began breathlessly, “What was that for?”  
“For being you.” He smiled brightly. “But seriously, I don’t trust Morrigan as far as I can throw her.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Then trust me.” I gave him a soft kiss and went to get the others.

As we began the walk back to the Wilds, in typical Alistair fashion, he began to strike up a conversation with Sten.

“Were you really in that cage for twenty days?” he asked.  
“It might have been closer to thirty. I stopped counting after awhile.”  
“What did you do? I mean, twenty days is a long time to sit in one place and do nothing.”  
“On good days, I posed riddles to the passersby, offering them treasures in exchange for correct answers.”

I felt my shoulders begin to shake as I tried to stifle my laughter. Oh please, Alistair. Please do take the bait.

“Really?”  
“No.”  
“I have it on good authority that Sten spent all that time practicing his unbridled love of pantomime. It’s a lost art, really.” I said in my most serious tone.  
“…Really?” Alistair asked again.  
“No.” Sten replied coolly.  
“Are all Qunari as quiet as you are?” Wynne posed.  
“Are all mages as chatty as you are?” Sten countered.  
“…That’s fair.”

Before long we were back at Flemeth’s doorstep. She was just standing outside, as though she were waiting for us. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it.

“And so you return.” Flemeth croaked. “Lovely Morrigan has finally found someone to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music she plays, wouldn’t you say?”

Alright, Scarlett, Morrigan warned you about this. Don’t waver.

“We know your little secret, Flemeth.” I taunted.  
“Well then. Let us skip right to the ending, shall we? Do you slay the old witch as Morrigan bids, or do you take a different turn?”  
“What Morrigan found in that book was monstrous. You deserve nothing less than death.”  
“Oh please, do come off that high horse. I know for a fact you have taken many lives to ensure your own survival and you will take many more. We are not so different, you and I. But I am not unreasonable. Morrigan wants my grimoire? Take it as a trophy. Tell her I am slain.”  
“Oh come on. You know as well I do that you raised no fool. No way would she believe that.”  
“We believe what we want to believe. It’s all we ever do.”  
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I gave her my word.”  
“Shame. What will it be then?”  
I unsheathed my sword and looked her square in the eyes. “Now, you die.”  
“Oh-ho how interesting. I’d like to see the look on her face when she realizes it. But you must earn what you take. I would have it no other way.”

She walked a few paces away from the hut. Okay, here it comes. I was pumped full of adrenaline. I was ready for anything. The Maker himself couldn’t stand in my way.

And then she transformed. Into a mother. fucking. high. dragon.

When Morrigan had mentioned Flemeth had shapeshifting capabilities like hers, I’d assumed, you know, they were actually like hers. What was she going to do? Turn into a spider? A wolf? A bear? I’d become quite adept at slaying all those things by then. But a Maker-forsaken high dragon?! I so wasn’t prepared for that. My hand shook as I held my sword. My knees felt wobbly and unsteady. But I charged anyway. I tried to land a blow wherever I could, but Maker preserve me, it was like chipping away at a mountain with a chisel. I’d never liked fighting with a shield; it cramped my style. I liked my weapons so large I had to use two hands to wield them. But I would have killed for one in this fight to shield myself from those sharp teeth and seemingly endless flames she kept spewing in my direction. For the first time in a long time, I was genuinely terrified of my enemy. I slowly began to realize that there was a very real chance I could lose this fight. Stupid, stupid Scarlett. Nevermind that now. I had to focus. There would be plenty of time to scold myself later. That is, if I made it through this.

I took her back right leg. Alistair took her left. Sten managed to slip beneath her and started slicing away at her midsection while Wynne did what she could from afar. After what seemed like hours of hacking and whacking and dodging and rolling, her head finally began to lower and I ran around front to land the final blow. And before I even knew what was happening, she lifted her head again and clamped her impossibly huge jaws around me. She picked me up and thrashed her head back and forth, her teeth still firmly sunk into my flesh, before letting me go and slamming me against the side of her hut.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I heard Alistair scream, then everything went black.

…

I didn’t wake up—not really. All I could hear were faint voices. I wasn’t even sure if they were real or if I was imagining them.

 _“A high dragon, Morrigan?! Are you kidding me?!”_  
_“You managed to slay her, did you not?”_  
_“At what cost?! How could you not tell her about this? You claimed to be her friend and you sent her out there like a lamb to the slaughter.”_  
_“I could not risk losing her help. I needed her. She was my only option.”_  
_“So help me, Morrigan. If I lose her because of this, Flemeth’s plans will look like a fucking picnic compared to what I do to you.”_  
_“Alright you two. Out. I’ve done all I can. Now all we can do is wait.”_

The voices disappeared and I slipped back into oblivion.


	14. A Fresh Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Scarlett down for the count, Alistair steps up to continue the story from his perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special and huge thanks to Pooka the Cat for her input and help in writing this chapter. She is my resident Alistair expert! I couldn't have done it without her. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

So, it’s me. Alistair. I guess I’ll be taking over storytelling duties while Scarlett remains… indisposed. Not my idea. Not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m not exactly what you’d call “eloquent.” I stammer and second-guess myself and have a spectacular predilection for never saying the right thing at the right time. Not to mention my handwriting is beyond appalling. “Indisposed” isn’t even the word I should use. That’s letting Morrigan off the hook too easily. She’s not “indisposed.” She’s lying there, in her tent, broken and bleeding and unconscious. Her life is hanging on by a thread. All because that bitch of a witch deceived her. Maker, I’d never felt so helpless in all my life. 

I just sat there in her tent, holding her hand, hoping beyond hope she’d wake up. Even now, I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked. Her pale winter skin, her blackberry-stained lips still red from this morning, her long chestnut-colored hair framing her round, mesmeric face. From the day we first met, something about her always seemed… otherworldly to me—almost celestial. As though the Maker sculpted her for Himself and accidentally dropped her on earth. That's not to suggest she only has looks going for her. She's smart as a whip! Merciful Andraste, the things that come out of that girl’s mouth sometimes just… blow my mind. And her laugh! It’s so… pure and almost touchable. I wish I could bottle it up and save it for whenever I’m having a bad day. And when she sings! Maker's breath, her voice is like the richest, smoothest silk—I could just wrap myself up and drown in it forever. I never in a million years thought she’d go for a guy like me. And yet somehow, some way, this veritable goddess landed right in front of my feet, and I’ve managed to convince her to slum it with this royal bastard. I know, I can hardly believe it myself but Andraste preserve me, the way she kisses… she leaves no room for doubt. She knows what she wants. And finally, for some of last night and the better part of today, that was me. And as it was, I might never know the feel of those passionate kisses ever again. 

No. No, there had to be something I could do. Think, Alistair, think. I left a soft kiss on the back of her hand before leaving her tent to find Wynne. 

“Wynne, a word please.” I began pacing back and forth, my hands fidgeting beyond all reason.  
“Alistair, I’ve already told you. She’s in the Maker’s hands now.”  
“Nuh uh. Not buying it. What if we went back to the Circle? Surely there are more mages there who know healing magic, right? Maybe they could—”  
“Alistair, I promise. There are no mages to be found at the Circle more experienced than I.”  
“What about a normal healer then? A physician or something… Maybe some yet live in Lothering… maybe we could—”  
“You know as well as I that Lothering is overrun, my dear. The next closest village is Redcliffe and we know there is no aid to be found there.”  
“What about Jowan? He knows powerful magic. Maybe we could… sort of… make Scarlett and Morrigan switch places or something.”  
“Alistair, let me get this straight. You’re suggesting we use blood magic to trade Morrigan’s life for Scarlett’s?”  
“…Yes?”  
“Shame on you, young man!” she scolded.  
“Hey, I’m grasping at straws here! And it’s nothing less than that witch deserves.” I insisted. Wynne just scowled at me.  
“I hate this, Wynne. I hate standing around here feeling absolutely useless. I mean, by now you’d think I’d be used to it, but this is even worse. I am the embodiment of useless. I am useless personified.”  
“I don’t mean to sound harsh Alistair but, it’s possible she will not recover. I hope with all of my heart that is not what happens but if it does, leadership will fall to you. Perhaps you should spend some time thinking about how we should proceed should the worst come to pass.” 

Once I processed what Wynne had said, I felt as though that old woman had punched me right across the face. And not in the frail, grandmotherly way either. I wonder if Wynne had a pair of brass knuckles stashed away somewhere… Not only was she confirming my very worst fear—that Scarlett may not be coming back—but also that I would be forced to assume the burdensome role of becoming the group leader. I’m not sure if Scarlett told you already but, I am no leader. Never have been, never want to be. It terrifies me. Even playing the game Follow the Leader as a child, I’d lose on purpose so I’d never be at the head of the line. It’s that bad. Besides, I’m lucky I can figure out which boot goes on which foot. Leading a group of warriors against an army of darkspawn? I was grossly underqualified. 

So I walked away. I just left her standing there as my thoughts began to swarm. I felt so lost. So confused. And the more I found myself thinking about the whole thing, the angrier I became. This may come as a shock to you but, I’ve never liked Morrigan. She’s cold and unfeeling and downright mean for absolutely no reason other than for her own amusement. I could tell from the moment I met her that she saw other people as nothing more than pawns—disposable playthings to be used in her own twisted game. Scarlett had decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and look where that landed her. I could lose her forever because Morrigan, surprise surprise, put her own selfishness ahead of everyone else. I stormed over there and decided to give that witch a piece of my mind. Well… another piece. I’d already told her off about five times now, but who’s counting? 

“Oh no. Not you again.” She groaned.  
“You’re despicable, you know that? She could die tonight because you didn’t have the stomach to handle your own dirty work.”  
“Sticks and stones, Alistair. Sticks and stones.” She sounded so very… bored. It was beyond infuriating. “What do you wish me to do? Turn back time? Take it all back? I cannot and I, for one, refuse to waste time dwelling on things I cannot change.”  
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You got what you wanted. Your mother is dead and you can just sit back and rest easy. She did this for you! Because for some Maker-forsaken reason, she counted you as a friend! That doesn’t mean a thing to you, does it? You don’t care a lick about her. You don’t know how to care about anyone but yourself.”  
“My feelings are not your concern. Scarlett was of sound mind when she agreed to slay Flemeth. She certainly did not have to do it but it was her choice. My conscience is clear.”  
“Your conscience?!” I spat the word at her. “Do you even know what that is? It’s that little voice in the back of your head that lets you know that something you’re about to do is wrong. There is no way you could have sent her to fight Flemeth while listening to that little voice. Your conscience is either defective or mute.”  
“Oh, and I suppose you share no blame in Scarlett’s current predicament? She did not go out there alone, did she?”  
“Don’t. Even. Start.” I growled through gritted teeth.  
“Oh my, have I struck a nerve? You were there, Alistair. You could have protected her. And when the time came for you to be weighed and measured, you were found wanting. You did nothing to save her.” 

I unsheathed my sword and extended it toward her, nothing but blind hatred and unbridled anger coursing through my veins. “Say. That. Again.” I dared her. 

She reached behind her back and her staff began to glow as she looked me dead in the eyes. “She would not by lying in that bed right now if not for your inadequacies. She will not die because I asked her for a favor. Your ineptitude is what will put her in her grave.”

And then I saw red. I went berserk. I raised my sword and was about to strike a blow when Leliana stepped between us. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” she cried.  
“Poor little Alistair cannot accept the fact that he failed to save his lady love.” Morrigan taunted.  
“Get out of the way, Leliana. Now!” I demanded.  
“I will not. You must calm down!”  
“Do not worry. I will save you the trouble. You get your wish. I am leaving.” Morrigan explained, cool as a cucumber. How did she always manage to get so far under my skin while I barely made a scratch?  
“How am I supposed to bash your head in if you’re not here?!” I wailed.  
“I would ask you the same, but considering the apparent thickness of your skull, it hardly seems worth the effort.”  
“Get. Out.” 

And I soon came to find out she wasn’t bluffing. She gathered her things and walked off into the night. The further away her outline became, the louder I began to clap and holler. 

“Maker be praised! If I ever see you again in this lifetime it will be too soon!” 

“Where will she go?” Leliana asked when she was out of earshot.  
“Who cares? Good riddance.” I spat on the ground to prove my point.  
“But… we need her!”  
“No, Leliana, we really don’t. With friends like Morrigan, who needs enemies?”  
“Scarlett would not approve of this. She’s always accepted help wherever we could find it. You know that.”  
“Don’t presume to know what Scarlett would and would not approve of, Leliana. After what Morrigan pulled, I’m pretty sure she’d be in my corner here.”  
Leliana shook her head. “Scarlett rarely lets her emotions get the best of her. She knows that cooler heads always prevail. Please, Alistair, be reasonable.”  
“Reasonable?!” I snapped at her. “Try watching the woman you love get torn apart by a high dragon and see how reasonable you feel afterwards!” 

Leliana just stared at me with wide eyes. What? What did I do now? 

“Did you… just say you love her?”

Oh no. Did I? I wasn’t even thinking. Did I enjoy spending time with her? Yes. Those nights I’d spent walking alone in the woods instead of keeping her company by the fire were some of the worst of my life. It’s funny. You’re so used to living one way and then one day something happens and you suddenly can’t imagine ever going back to the way things were. That was what Scarlett was to me. I just… didn’t even want to think of going back to a life without her. Did I care for her? Definitely. She made me feel in ways I’d never before experienced. I worried every single time we went into a battle—not about myself, but about whether she’d get hurt. Her rejection cut me like a thousand knives. Her laughter warmed my very soul. Quite the mixed bag, now that I think about it. Did I desire her? Oh, that was a no-brainer. I cannot tell you how many times I found myself lying awake at night thinking about the softness of her skin, the fire in her kisses, how it would feel to have those long legs wrapped around me… Maker have mercy. Wait, what were we talking about again? 

“Alistair! I asked you a question. I knew you cared for her but… the L word?!”  
“You want the honest answer? I don’t know. It just sort of… slipped out.”  
Leliana nodded. “Sometimes the heart knows what it wants faster than we realize.” She paused before asking, “Have you ever been in love before?”  
“No, never. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to feel like.”  
“It’s not ‘supposed’ to feel like anything. It’s just something you know beyond the shadow of a doubt. Once it takes hold of you, there’s no mistaking it for anything else.”  
“Right, well… I guess if I’m unsure it means I don’t, right?”  
Leliana let out a short laugh. “I’m afraid it is not that simple.”  
I reached up to run my fingers through my hair. Could this be any more awkward? “Look, let’s just forget I said anything, alright?”  
“You should tell her, you know. Should she awaken.”  
“No, that’s the last thing I should do. It would frighten her. I know it would. She’s been so reluctant about all of this from the start. Merciful Andraste, it would frighten me! How do you even say something like that to a person?”  
“I would suggest something along the lines of, ‘I love you, Scarlett.’”  
“Ugh. No. I couldn’t possibly just… what if… I mean, she’s so intelligent and well-spoken and... I would sound like such an idiot trying to explain… Oh, Maker preserve me. No. Definitely not. Bad idea. Please. Promise me you won’t say anything.”  
“Alright,” she sighed. “I promise. Oh. And don’t forget to feed Meatball. She’d never forgive you.” Leliana winked.  
I tried but all I could manage was a half-smile. “Thanks, Leliana.” 

Meatball decided to park himself right outside Scarlett’s tent and hadn’t moved a muscle since I’d left. I’d never seen him like this. Usually he was so happy, so full of life. Now he was just lying on the ground, completely devoid of any of his usual energy. I knelt down and set the food in front of him, then scratched behind his ears as I’d seen Scarlett do about a million times. I guess he liked it. Sadly, he didn’t touch the food. 

“I know.” I sighed. “I haven’t had much of an appetite either.”  
He whined in response.  
“She’ll be okay. I know she will.” I lied. I guess he could sense it because all I got was another whine. I patted his back and left him with the food. And then I found myself pacing yet again. 

“Draw your weapon.” Sten demanded.  
“…What? Are you talking to me?” I swear, he appeared out of nowhere. No way should someone that big ever be able to sneak up on you. I was losing it. And really? Sten typically spent all his time embodying all possible meanings of the phrase “silent as a tomb,” and he chose tonight of all nights to get chatty? Are you kidding me?  
“Your weapon. Draw it.”  
“Why? Are we under attack?” I looked around but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.  
“I want to see what you can do.” He explained.  
“…You want to fight me? Just like that?”  
“You are a Grey Warden. How are you going to face an archdemon if you cannot face me?”  
“It is a mystery, I will admit.”  
“I should let your weakness damn us all? Draw your sword. I will try not to injure you permanently.”  
“Look, I get that this is your idea of a pep talk, but I’m really not in the mood.”  
“Your woman will not always be there to fight your battles for you.” 

Oh, that one hurt. So that’s what this was about. He wanted me to prove I was fit to lead should Scarlett perish. Fine. With all the anger still balled up inside me, I could definitely go for a round or two. I started unsheathing my sword but common sense got the better of me at the last minute. 

“I don’t have to prove anything to you. Forget it.”  
“So you do have a spine. Pity you do not use it.” 

And just like that, he left, and somehow he’d managed to make me feel even worse. I didn’t think that was even possible at this point. 

I decided to go sit with Meatball by the fire outside Scarlett’s tent. Then I saw Zevran approaching. Oh no. This was the very last thing I needed. 

“Alas, my young friend. How fares the maiden?”  
“No change.” Was all I offered. Then he took it upon himself to sit down beside me. Who invited him?! “Zevran, I’d really prefer to be alone.”  
“Look, I know I may appear to only have one thing on my mind… well, perhaps two things—murder and sex. But I am an actual person. And I know when someone needs some comfort.”  
“What are you offering, exactly?” I looked at him suspiciously. If there’s one thing I came to learn about Zevran, it’s that he almost always had an ulterior motive, even when he appeared to be sincere.  
“Simply my company and some polite conversation.”  
“Riiiiight. Well I’m not really in the mood for a chat so I’m afraid you’ll find this conversation to be a bit one-sided.”  
“That has never stopped me before.” He grinned. “You know, you are not the only one in this camp who cares for her.”

I began to open my mouth to tell him to back off, but he interrupted before I could get a word in. 

“I do not say this to threaten you. I simply mean that the young lady in there means something to all of us. And we all share in your worry. But there is fire in that one. The likes of which I have never seen before. If anyone can defy death itself, it is she.”  
I nodded. “She’s one tough cookie, that’s for sure.”  
“And if I may say so, quite special. Hold on to her, my young friend.”  
I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. “I’ll try my best.” 

At that moment I decided to crawl back into her tent. I had to be near her. I grabbed her hands in mine and let my eyes linger on her delicate face. 

“Oh Scarlett, I don’t know what to do here. I… I’m lost without you, I really am. We all are.” I sighed, rested my head on her hands, and closed my eyes. “I’m not really a praying man but… Maker, please return her to me. There’s so much we haven’t had the chance to do yet. We haven’t read to each other. We haven’t watched for shooting stars. I haven’t kissed her in the rain. I haven’t woken up beside her. I haven’t shown her what a terrible dancer I am…”  
“Maybe we could put that last one on the back burner.” She whispered. I immediately lifted my head and Maker preserve me, I had never been so overjoyed to see those brilliant green eyes staring back into mine. 

“You’re awake!” In my excitement I tried wrapping her up in my arms and giving her a huge kiss.  
“Ow ow ow!” she groaned. Oops.  
“Oh Maker, I’m so sorry! I’m just… so happy to see you!”  
She gave me a slow smile. “Feelings mutual. Let’s try that again, but a little gentler this time.” 

I very carefully made sure none of my weight was on top of her as I brushed my lips against hers. Although it was weaker than usual, the kiss was unmistakably Scarlett’s. Warm, fiery, passionate. 

“I thought I’d lost you.” I whispered against her lips.  
She shook her head and whispered back. “I’m here. And I’m yours.”  
I grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”


	15. A Moment Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Scarlett is finally feeling like herself again, she's all too eager to get going. But it's quite possible she's taking on too much too fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's baaaack! Comments and kudos are appreciated. Thanks all!

Well, I’m back. I hope nothing too terribly interesting happened while I was gone. You’d tell me, right? Of course you would. 

After I initially woke up, I spent what felt like ages in that tent. Wynne fussed over me. Alistair fussed over me. Leliana fussed over me. Maker, even Meatball fussed over me. Zevran offered to give me massages and sponge baths; shocking, I know. Sten even offered me some cookies to make me feel better. I know it’s silly but, all their gestures of concern and affection… they really warmed my cockles. It was almost like having a family again—a feeling I never thought I could possibly recapture. Although, there was one member who was noticeably absent. 

Every time I tried to ask Alistair what happened he’d either change the subject with his usual brand of breezy humor or say we should look forward instead of behind us. The whole thing clearly upset him immensely. Morrigan was always especially talented when it came to driving Alistair up a wall, but this was different. She really did a number on him this time. All I knew was that something was broken and it was my job to fix it. 

As for my own feelings toward Morrigan, well, I’m just not sure, to be honest. It was really my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have been so naïve. I should have been more careful. I should have been better prepared. I mean, when you befriend a wolf, no matter how close you might think you have become, there’s always the chance you’re going to get bitten. I should have accounted for that. She did tell me not to underestimate Flemeth. I just never in my wildest dreams thought the ability to transform into a bloody high dragon was what she meant. Did I resent her? Yes, a little. I admit that. Do I hold her 100 percent accountable? Not even close. As for Alistair, well, he saw things a little differently. 

Today, however, I was determined to get a straight answer out of him. Today was a day for new beginnings. Today I was finally well enough to get out of that blasted canvas prison and I could not have been more ecstatic. Today I finally felt like… well, me again. Look out, world! Scarlett is back in action! (I don’t even care how cheesy that sounded; I’m in a good mood for once. Sod off.)

I crawled out of my tent, stood up, and breathed in the warm, fresh air until my lungs were at full capacity. Maker, it just felt so good to be alive! 

“Good morning, everybody!” I greeted jubilantly.  
“Well, look at you, all up and about on two legs!” Alistair beamed.  
“Two long, lovely legs.” Zevran added. Alistair elbowed him in the stomach and he gasped for air. Ah, nothing like seeing the old gang back together again.  
“You really shouldn’t be wandering around on your own yet, young lady.”  
“Wynne, I would rather be fed to the darkspawn than spend one more minute confined to that Maker-forsaken tent. I’m ready. Trust me.”  
“Fine, fine. But if those wounds open up, don’t come crying to me.”  
“Duly noted. Look, I’m not really one for speeches but, well, I owe you all a huge debt. I cannot express what your care and support has meant to me these past few days. I know I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of you, and I am beyond grateful. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.”  
“We are just happy to have you back.” Leliana smiled. Meatball echoed her sentiments with a happy bark.  
“Now that that useless show of emotion is out of the way, might we continue our journey? There are a great many darkspawn to be fought and we have lost too much time.” Sten observed, stoic as ever.  
“I agree. We have lost a lot of time. I apologize for that. But I’m afraid I have one loose end that needs to be tied up before we can resume our travels. Alistair, a word please.” I grabbed his arm and led him to the edge of the woods. It wasn’t ideal but it was as private as we were going to get. 

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m the bad student who is being held after class?”  
“Oooh, that could be fun.” I smirked.  
“…Fun? What do you mean?” Oh Alistair. So much to learn, so little time.  
“Nevermind. I want to talk about Morrigan, and I’m not letting you off the hook this time. Give it to me straight: What the heck happened between you two? Why did she leave?”  
Alistair gave me a heavy sigh. “Why will you not drop this? We’re better off without her.”  
“How do you figure one mage is better than two in a fight against the darkspawn? Math was never my strong suit, I admit, but I don’t think I’m figuring this equation wrong.”  
“How can you possibly want her back after all she put you through?! You almost died!”  
“But I didn’t. And you can’t solely blame Morrigan for all of this, Alistair. I should have known better. All the signs were right there in front of my face and I ignored them. Maker, even you knew something wasn’t right and I still didn’t see reason.”  
“Even me, huh? Thanks.” He folded his arms and looked down at the ground, dejected.  
“Aww I’m sorry.” I kissed his cheek gently. “I just meant that… well… you’re not exactly the most observant person.”  
“Hmm… I’m afraid that’s not going to cut it.” He tapped his other cheek and I kissed him there as well.  
“Hmm… still not good enough.” I pulled him close and brushed my lips across his, a kiss that he oh so enthusiastically returned as his mouth began sucking into mine. I ran my tongue across the outside of his lips and he eagerly opened up to me, pulling my body even closer to his. It was so tempting to just melt into him and keep going but…

“Wait, wait, wait. I’m onto you. You’re trying to distract me! That’s ridiculously unfair and you know it!” I protested, breaking the kiss suddenly and pushing him away.  
“Damn, I really thought that was going to work.” He gave me another sigh. “Alright, fine. Before you woke up, I was… well… I was going crazy, to put it mildly. I was very, very angry at Morrigan for what she’d done and we got into an argument.”  
“You’ve been very, very angry at Morrigan before.” I pointed out. “What made this different?”  
“She… she said it was my fault you were going to die. Because I failed to protect you.” His face fell and a deep sadness overtook his countenance. I found his hand with mine and looked tenderly into his eyes. 

“You know that isn’t true, Alistair. I’m a big girl. I’m more than capable of protecting myself. And when I fail to do so, that’s on me. Protecting me is not your job. It’s not anyone’s job.”  
“I know you’re strong and independent and all that, I do. But I can’t help it. I want to protect you, even when you won’t let me. It’s a guy thing.”  
“Ah, so that’s what this is about? Your manly pride?” 

Then he looked at me as though I’d slapped him in the face and snatched his hand away. Ugh. This was not going as well as I’d hoped. 

“You weren’t there, okay? The things she said were so… ugly. Even for her. I was going out of my mind and instead of taking any responsibility for what happened, she decided to twist the dagger even further. This wasn’t about my pride, Scarlett. This was me being scared to death of losing you and her not only saying it was going to happen, but that it was my fault. You of all people should be able to understand where I’m coming from here. Imagine being back at Highever, just after leaving your family, and someone says they’d still be alive if it weren’t for your mistakes or your weakness. How would you react?” 

I took a moment to really see things from his perspective, and I soon came to realize I couldn’t blame him one bit for the way things went down. If someone had done that to me, I would have been furious beyond all reconciliation. I probably would have torn her head off and used what remained for target practice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.” I offered softly. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead.  
“Forgiven.”  
“Wow, that was easy.” I smirked.  
“Yeah well, I have something of a weak spot for you.” He smiled back.  
“So, what happened exactly?” I asked. “I… imagine things escalated rather quickly.”  
“I almost ran her through with my sword. Leliana stepped in before I could do anything.”  
“And that’s when she left…”  
“Yep. That’s the whole story.”  
“Great. I was rather hoping to gain some important insight from this conversation, and now I feel even more uncertain than I did before we had it.”  
“She lied to you for her own gain and you almost lost your life as a result. What is there to be uncertain about?”  
“Morrigan withheld some rather pertinent information, that I will grant you, but I’m the one who kicked the hornet’s nest. She did tell me not to underestimate Flemeth, you know.”  
“Even so. There’s no way you could have known what Flemeth had in store for us.”  
“You’re right. I didn’t know. And I attacked her anyway. Flemeth herself even gave us a way out and I still didn’t take it. I was… stupid.”  
“You are many things, Scarlett Cousland, but stupid is not one of them.”  
“Call me crazy, but I think you might be just a little bit biased.” I teased.  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes.  
“I mean it, Alistair. My overblown sense of loyalty and my own damn hubris clouded my judgment and I almost paid the ultimate price for it. The majority of the fault lies with me.”  
“You always do that—look inward to place the blame instead of looking outward where it really belongs. You can’t control everything, Scarlett. You can’t anticipate every move before it happens. Life isn’t a damn game of chess. Morrigan totally screwed us over and that’s all there is to it.”  
“Let’s agree to disagree, shall we?” I offered. “It’s a moot point, anyway. Even if I wanted to try to get her back, I have no idea where she’s gone. I’m not going to waste time searching for someone who probably doesn’t want to be found.”  
“Yep, it’s quite tragic, really.”  
“Uh huh. I can tell you’re really broken up about her departure.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Well, I guess there’s no real reason for us to stick around then. There’s still plenty of daylight left. I say we get moving.”  
“Wynne is going to throw a fit if you try to travel this soon, you know.”  
“Hey, I might not be in my top form but I still think I could take her.”  
“If you say so…” 

I headed back to the heart of the camp and told everyone to gather their things. 

“You’re doing too much too soon, missy! You’re going to end back up in that bedroll before you know it.” Wynne scolded me.  
“Sten is right. We’ve lost too much time. I’ll be fine! I’ll pack light and stay out of trouble. I promise.”  
“Trouble always seems to find you, whether you’re staying out of it or not.” She countered.

Touche. I didn’t know what to say to that one so I went back to packing. Then Leliana found me.

“Could we… talk for a moment?” she asked.  
“Sure.” I patted the ground beside my belongings. “Something on your mind?”  
“Well I… want to tell you something. After what happened with Morrigan’s deception, I want to be as open and honest as possible.”  
“…Should I be worried?” I asked.  
“No, not really. I don’t know.” She paused for a moment, then dove right in. “I… lied awhile back. When you asked me why I left Orlais. I didn’t feel like talking about it then, what happened to me. I don’t know if it will even matter but, it could be important.” 

I stopped packing and sat down beside her. This seemed serious.

“Okay, I’m all ears.”  
“I came to Ferelden and the chantry because I was being… hunted… in Orlais. I was framed. Betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust.”  
“It’s a common scenario, apparently.” I said bitterly.  
“Her name was Marjolaine. She was my mentor, my friend.” 

Leliana went on to explain about some forged documents that painted her a traitor to the crown. How she had been arrested and tortured and barely escaped with her life. If she had remained in Orlais, she said, she would be hunted still.

“And that is the reason I am here. Ferelden protected my person while the chantry saved my soul. That’s it. No more lies between us.”

Well, it wasn’t the best news but, at least she told me. We’d escaped one group of cutthroats already, right? What was a few more assassination attempts among friends? 

“Thank you for trusting me with this.” I said sincerely.  
“Of course. Thank you for listening. It… feels good to get this off my chest.”  
“Alright.” I winced a little as I got up off the ground. Leliana caught me. “I’m fine, I’m fine. No worries.”  
“Are you sure you’re up for this? Heading out so soon, I mean?” she asked.  
“I hope so. I’m just really, really eager to leave this whole place behind. Lots of bad memories.”  
Leliana nodded. “I understand.” 

And then we were off and resumed our journey to Denerim. Wynne let me use her staff as a walking stick for extra support which helped a bit, but man oh man was I feeling every mile. Every inch of me buckled and ached and despite all my tries to be strong, we had to stop and rest a lot more frequently than usual. My body just couldn’t take the strain for very long. 

And then, sure as the sun rises in the east, trouble found me—just as Wynne predicted. Perfect. She’d never let me live this down.

Bandits. Bandits everywhere. Armed with wolves this time, as an added bonus. Although, I don’t know if the bandits kept the wolves as pets or if the wolves just happened to attack us at the same time. Neither would have surprised me—not with my luck. I tried to hold my sword but it felt impossibly weighty. Every time I reached up to strike a blow I could feel my wounds tear open a little more. Oh, this was so not good. Why oh why did I never study archery? Close combat was really biting me in the ass right about now. 

“Run! Get to safety!” Alistair commanded.  
“I won’t leave you!” I cried. Then a wolf tackled me to the ground. Meatball tried to take it on, Maker bless him, but he was no match for the bigger dog and was soon knocked out cold. The others were surrounded and dealing with their own problems. I was… oh what’s the term… royally fucked. 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a wolf with striking black fur tackled the other one and I immediately crawled as far away from the fighting as I could. While the others had the remaining bandits on the run, the black wolf just stayed in front of me and took care of anyone that dared come near me. 

Eventually, all of the bandits were wiped out, save one. I tried with all my might to get up but I couldn’t move a muscle. 

“Why isn’t he dead yet?” I called over.  
“Alistair, Sten, grab him.” Leliana demanded. Then they drug him over to me so I could see him up close. It was at that point the black wolf decided to run back into the woods. Now, I’m not normally one for gambling, but if my thinking is correct, I’d bet you 50 sovereigns I’d be seeing her again.  
“He is no common bandit. None of them were. Their armor and weapons are of fine make, and they are well-trained. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” Leliana kicked him and he groaned. “Who are you?”  
He coughed up some blood before responding. Ew. “Someone who regrets taking you on. I was told it would be an easy job. Kill the little red-haired girl. Do with the others as we pleased. I had some serious plans for that one.” He gestured over to me. Really? Coughing up blood and still only had one thing on his mind? Ugh. Men.  
“Please let me kill him.” Alistair entreated.  
“Not yet. You… you came to kill me? Who sent you? Why am I wanted dead?”  
“It don’t pay to ask why someone wants someone else dead. I just need to know what to do and where to get my money.”  
“Leliana…” I began, “I’m suddenly reminded of a little conversation you and I had not more than a scant few hours ago. I mean really, what are the odds?”  
“I have an offer, if you’re willing to hear it.” The assassin claimed.  
“Of course you do. Why do assassins always have proposals? Do they pull you aside in assassin school and teach you to have one as a backup plan, Zev, or is it just an act of desperation?”  
“I can honestly say it is a bit of both.” Zevran replied.  
I sighed. “Fair enough. Out with it.”  
“I know where you can find the one who hired me. I can draw you a map to a house. It’s in Denerim. Here. It’s the best I can do.” He handed Leliana the map.  
“Thank you.” She replied. “Now leave. I never want to see you again.” 

He left as quickly as he could. No need to tell him twice. 

“You’re right, Scarlett. It’s Marjolaine. It has to be.”  
“No doubt. But why now?” I asked.  
“I don’t know. Maybe someone saw me. We were in one spot for quite awhile while you were healing. We are headed to Denerim anyway. Perhaps it’s time to settle this score for good.”  
I nodded. “This Marjolaine… she won’t turn into a high dragon, right?”  
Leliana laughed. “Not a chance.”  
Alistair shot me an icy glare.  
“What?” I asked. “Too soon?”


	16. A House Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Scarlett's mysterious rescue, she is once again bed-ridden and rife with pain. But her body isn't the only thing that's broken, and Scarlett is intent on fixing the rift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And as always, I love receiving your feedback!

And then, as I was sat there on the ground feeling the blood beginning to seep through my clothes from my freshly reopened wounds, it began to rain. And not just any rain; it began to monsoon torrents and torrents of massive, dense globules that actually hurt your skin upon impact. Perfect. Why should anything go my way?

Alistair slung my arm over his shoulders and tried to lift me to my feet, but the pain was too great. It felt as though my recently torn skin caught on fire with even the slightest movement. Wynne tried to help but whatever she did hardly made a dent.

“We have to keep moving. We have lingered here too long and there may be more of them.” Sten observed.  
“No shit. What do you think I’m trying to do?” I asked, making no attempt to mask my aggravation.

Then he took it upon himself to kneel down and scoop me up in those impossibly huge arms as though I were light as a feather. I opened my mouth to protest but he interrupted before I could get a word in.

“Enough. I am doing what is necessary. Worry about your foolish pride after we are gone from this place.”

Maker, I absolutely reviled every minute he carried me. I felt like nothing more than a helpless child with every large step he took, but what could I do? Endanger everyone because I was too stubborn to accept help? I know I haven’t been making the best decisions lately but this one was pretty easy. And he kept on going—despite the unbearably heavy rain, despite the fatigue that was no doubt weighing him down. I had never particularly warmed to Sten but I had to admit, his perseverance was certainly something to be commended.

Despite my rather considerable handicaps, we covered a decent amount of ground before the sun set and the time came to set up camp.

“We need to get you somewhere dry right away.” Wynne suggested. “I need to bandage those wounds before they get infected.”  
“I’ll set up her tent.” Alistair offered. “You’ve had enough trials and tribulations for one day, hmm?” he smirked at me.

And then, I was back. In the tent again. Wynne patched me up and I could do nothing but stare up at the oh so familiar roof of my canvas prison.

“Now perhaps you’ll learn. You cannot rush these things, young lady. Get yourself better or we will all suffer the consequences.”  
I let out a heavy sigh. I knew I had been defeated. “Understood.”

Meatball, a bit sore but still alive and kicking after he so valiantly tried to save me from that blasted wolf, was laying at my feet as I tried to put this involuntary downtime to good use and prioritize things. Not sure if you’ve noticed, by my to-do list was growing longer and longer by the minute. Get to Denerim. Find Brother Genitivi. Confront Marjolaine. Locate that blasted urn. Heal Eamon. Secure the aid of the dwarves and the elves. Make Howe pay and pay dearly for how he wronged my family and me. Defeat Loghain. End the civil war. Slay the arch demon. And just maybe, after all that was said and done and if by some miracle I lived to tell the tale, go back to Highever and restore it to its former glory. Maker, the more I thought about it the more hopeless I became. I am but one bloody person. Of course I had help, and I so appreciated it, but this was a herculean task and if that last fight was any indication I just… didn’t know whether I was up for it anymore. I kept making misstep after misstep and my primary worry was that as I progressed through this tangled labyrinth of a mission, I would do nothing but manage to get myself even more lost. Everyone was looking to me to be their guide, and I was working with nothing but a broken compass. Not good. Not good at all.

Then Meatball broke my concentration when I heard a low growl emanating from his mouth. The black wolf from the earlier battle with the assassins wandered into my tent. I tried to pet him to calm him down but he wasn’t having it.

“Do you think I might speak with the real you? You’re scaring Meatball half to death.”

And then, as though she were simply changing her outfit, Morrigan seamlessly transformed back into her human form and sat down beside the Mabari. She even petted his head—something I had never, ever seen her do before. Meatball seemed to be satisfied with that and wandered outside in the rain to get something to eat.

“So, what brings you here? Just happen to be in the neighborhood?” I inquired.  
“I… I am no good with open wounds…” she began.  
“I take it you don’t mean that literally.”  
“You know exactly what I mean, Scarlett.” She scolded bitterly before her expression softened along with her tonal inflection. “‘Tis a curious thing. I do not know how else to describe it.”  
“You look mighty confused.” I observed.  
“Indeed I am, a little. I am reminded of our first meeting in the Wilds. I had been in animal form for some time, watching your progress. I was intrigued to see such a formidable woman, obviously more potent than the men she traveled with.”  
“Why Morrigan, I do believe you’re making me blush.” I smirked.  
“Oh do shut up and let me finish.” She chided. Fine fine. Ruin my fun. “I… resented it when Flemeth made me travel with you. I assumed that, at best, you would drive me from your company as soon as we left the Wilds.”  
“I had no reason to do that. You were there for Alistair and me when it mattered most. And I was most relieved to acquire another helping hand.”  
“Be that as it may, I am… aware that I have little talent for forming friendships… to put it lightly. ‘Tis something I know nothing of, nor thought I needed.”  
“You and I are not so different, Morrigan. At least, not in this. I’ve always been something of a loner myself. The companions I used to read about in books were my preferred company. I never really sought out anyone else’s friendship. Maker’s breath, I only became close with Alistair because he refused to accept silence as a response. He just keeps talking at you until you give in.” I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him.

Her face turned sour at the mere mention of his name. Ugh. We had a long way to go.

Rather than following up with some scathing remark, she just moved forward, desperate to make her point as quickly as possible. “When I discovered Flemeth’s plans, you did not abandon me. Whatever your reasons, you fought what was obviously a terrible battle without hope of any reward.”  
“I did. Perhaps not the wisest decision in hindsight but, I hear that’s what friends do. They help each other. Rewards be damned.”  
“And that is what I do not understand. Of all the things that could have resulted when Flemeth told me to go with you, the very last would have been that I would find in you a friend. Perhaps even a sister.” She paused for a moment as her voice grew hoarse, tears welling up in her eyes. “I want you to know that while I may not always prove worthy of your friendship, I will always value it.”

I was… touched by her words, I really was. I knew that wasn’t easy for her to say, and now that Flemeth was out of the way she could have very easily abandoned me. Instead, she chose to return. She chose to save my life.

“I… don’t know what to say. Thank you, Morrigan. That means a lot to me.”  
“I know I am the reason you are lying there wounded. I wish it were not so. If you wish me to leave, I shall. But if not, know that I will keep fighting for you, at your side, until the job is done.”  
I nodded. “I welcome your help. But unfortunately, I do have one condition.”  
“Let me guess...” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.  
“Yep, I need you and Alistair to work things out. A house divided cannot stand and we cannot proceed until this rift between you two is at least partially repaired.”  
“We have not taken a liking to one another from the start. Why force that to change now?” she asked defiantly.  
“This wasn’t your standard squabble and you know it. You said some pretty harsh things, Morrigan. Even for you.”  
“Well, the fool kept pestering me! A woman has her limits, you know.”  
“Please,” I entreated, “Speak with him.”  
“I can all but guarantee if he sees me approaching he will try his hardest to avoid me by any means necessary.”  
“Fine. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. It’s about to get mighty cozy in here. ALISTAIR!” I called.  
Within 30 seconds he ducked his head into my tent. “What is it?! What’s wrong?!” And then, of course, he noticed Morrigan. “What is she doing here?!”

Ooooh boy was he livid. I had to find a way to defuse the situation or we were in deep trouble. I was in no condition to effectively play referee.

I extended my hand out to him. “Come in, please.” I found his eyes with mine and gave him my best wounded puppy-dog impression. He most reluctantly took my hand.

“That’s not even remotely fair, you know.” He griped as he took a seat beside me. I held on to his hand tightly and ran my thumb repeatedly over the back of it in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

“Alistair, Morrigan has something to say to you. Don’t you, Morrigan?”  
“I…” she began but had to swallow hard before she could get the next few words out. “Perhaps I was a bit harsh, the other day.”  
“A bit harsh?!” he cried. “You blamed me for everything!”  
“Not everything!” she protested. “Twas you who placed all the blame upon me, if I recall correctly.”  
“Guys…” I began, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger and closing my eyes. I felt a migraine coming on. “Pointing fingers is getting us nowhere fast. Morrigan, will you admit that you regret your ‘harsh’ words toward Alistair?”  
“…Fine. Yes. I regret the way that particular conversation… unfolded.” was all she offered. I let out a heavy sigh.  
“Alistair, do you have anything you wish to say to Morrigan?”  
“Not really.” He said coldly. I dug my nails into his hand. “Ouch! Okay, fine. I guess I do, too.” He admitted unenthusiastically.  
“Great! Now shake hands.” I demanded.  
“Again with the touching. Always with the touching! I loathe this primitive custom.” Morrigan groaned.  
“Ugh, do I have to?” Alistair whined.  
“Yes! You bloody have to, okay?! Now do it!” My patience was running mighty thin. Then they reached out and gave each other the briefest, most lifeless handshake I have ever witnessed. If I weren’t watching closely I wouldn’t have even believed their hands made contact at all, but I’d take what I could get.

“Thank you. Now kindly get out of my tent.”  
“Umm… actually, I had hoped to speak with you.” Alistair explained.  
“Fine. Morrigan, it’s been nice catching up, but—”  
“Oh, do not worry. I would certainly not want to be present for whatever is about to happen between you two. I would like my supper to remain in my stomach, if at all possible.” And then, thank the Maker, she left.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before propping myself up on my elbows and addressing Alistair. “Alright. What’s on your mind?”  
“So, that’s it. You’re just going to let her come back. Just like that.”  
“Alistair, I really don’t need this right now.” I groaned. That headache was now in full swing and whatever spell Wynne had cast to dull my pain, the effects seemed to be rapidly depleting.  
“Well, I’m sorry, but you trusted her once and look where that landed you.”  
“Look, I am trying my best here under really difficult circumstances. It’s not made any easier when all of you question every single decision I make.” I snapped. “I’m not asking you to like it, okay? I’m asking you to accept it.”  
“And if I refuse to accept it?” Great. He was getting angry now too.  
“Tell you what… why don’t you lead then, hmm? You can make all the decisions and I’ll just sit back and tell you when it’s the wrong one. Then when you fuck up I can hold it over your head and smugly say ‘I told you so.’ Sound like fun?” I let my head fall hard back onto my makeshift pillow as I crossed my arms over my chest. I half expected him to fly off the handle and yell right back at me. It would have served me right. I could understand why he was angry and it wasn't fair of me to take out my frustrations on him just because he was there. But he didn't. Although I wasn't looking at him, I could somehow feel the tension he was carrying dissipate, the anger that was building come to an abrupt halt. 

“Hey…” he began in a gentler tone, running his hand down the back of my cheek. “What’s really bothering you?”

I turned my head to face him and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m just… overwhelmed. We have so much ahead of us and I’m so helpless right now. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m still the wrong person to be heading this whole thing up. I’ve already made so many mistakes. I feel like I’m just going to keep making more until I run everyone and everything into the ground.”  
“Nothing about this has been easy, Scarlett. We were handed a really crappy situation and you’re doing everything within your power to make the best of it. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing great.” He tried to reassure me.  
“Heh, if I were doing great, I wouldn’t be confined to this damn tent again and slowing everyone down.”  
“Hey, you’re still alive, despite every unimaginable obstacle we’ve faced. You’ve already secured two alliances for this war. Maker, you somehow even managed to get Morrigan and me to shake hands. I’d say you’re a damn miracle worker.” He smiled. I found his hand again and gave him a soft smile back.  
“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m so grumpy. I… this really hurts. Like, really bad.” I admitted as I felt a few tears of pain stream down my face. He leaned over me, careful to be sure none of his weight was resting on my body lest he hurt me even more.

“Tell me where it hurts.” He whispered as he looked down into my eyes.  
I let out a bitter laugh. “It would probably be easier to tell you where it doesn’t.”  
“You know how I do love a challenge.” He wiggled his eyebrows. I smirked and shook my head at his silliness.  
“Well… my head hurts.” I began. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then planted soft kisses on my eyelids. I couldn’t help but let a broad smile spread across my lips.  
“Where else?” he asked quietly.

I moved my hands and pointed to either side of the top of my ribcage where Flemeth’s teeth had surrounded me, sinking into my flesh and snapping my bones.

He kept his face close to mine but passed right over my lips and moved his body lower and planted more gentle kisses on top of my bandages where I showed him the pain was.

“And here…” I said softly as I moved my hands lower down my ribcage to the next wound. And his lips followed my lead. And I kept moving my hands lower and his kisses kept trailing behind until he reached my hips.

“Anywhere else?” he asked as he looked up at me, his chin resting on my lower stomach. Maker, despite my pain, it was downright torturous having his face so close to… umm… well, an especially sensitive area. I had to make him move before I lost my mind.

“Here…” I tapped my lips with my index finger and he moved his body back up so we were face to face again.  
“That’s funny… I don’t see any damage there…” he teased.  
“What did I just tell you about questioning me?” I smirked.  
“Mmm… I’m going to keep doing it I’m afraid. But I am happy to make an exception this time.” He brought his lips close to mine but didn’t close the gap between us, making me wait. Well, blast that! I raised my head and impatiently kissed him, my fingers immersed in his hair, holding his lips tightly to mine.  
“We shouldn’t… not in here…” he said breathlessly as he broke the kiss.  
“Why?” I posed, staring intensely into his eyes. “Worried you won’t want to stop?” I asked as I playfully nipped at his lips.  
He nodded. “Yes, that’s… a very, very real possibility.”  
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Alistair, I am in no condition to do anything more than kissing. I promise.”  
He let out a slightly nervous laugh in return but I stifled it with another kiss. “But when I’m all better…” I slowly traced the outline of his lips with my tongue, “you’ll be the first to know.”  
“Merciful Andraste!” he exclaimed, trying desperately to regain control of himself. “I’d um… better get out of here. And take a cold bath maybe.”  
I chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Alistair.”  
He lifted my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss before crawling back outside into the unending rain. “Goodnight, my lady.”


	17. City Slickers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a loooong trek, Scarlett and her companions finally arrive in Denerim to seek out Brother Genitivi. But nothing is ever easy, is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally! Denerim!  
> Comments and kudos really warm my cockles. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

It took another week of nothing but bedrest, nasty-tasting potions, Wynne’s spells, lather, rinse, and repeat, but eventually the wounds closed, my broken bones were somewhat mended, and I was fit for actual travel again. It was the longest, dullest week of my young life. I grew so bored one night I even took Zevran up on his offer to teach me how to play a card game called Wicked Grace. I was that hard up for entertainment. But then I just as quickly drove him from my company when he suggested the loser had to remove all their clothes. Typical. Well, there were Alistair’s visits… they were always “entertaining.” But we got carried away all too easily. It would always start off so innocently. A conversation about the weather or jokes about Sten’s body odor or Leliana’s weird preoccupation with shoes. It didn’t matter. We’d always end up in the same place. And that place was his body on top of mine (always fully clothed, mind you. I did at least attempt to act like a lady, despite my baser instincts trying to take over), and our lips locked in some seriously fierce kissing. It was such torture but Maker, something about all that tension building up was so… delicious. The better I felt the harder it was to restrain myself, and I knew he wasn’t ready for more just yet. So, as the week progressed, we kept our in-tent visits to a minimum.

Before too long we finally made it to the outskirts of Denerim. Maker, was that a trek and a half. But at least all that time spent in silent contemplation while Wynne forced me to do nothing but stay in my tent and get better gave me some time to think about our next move. Priority one was finding this Genitivi fellow. If we were going to stand any sort of chance of defeating Loghain, we definitely needed Eamon in our corner. Unfortunately, an unconscious Arl wasn’t going to make a super compelling argument for our cause. We had to find a way to make him better. Here was hoping this Genitivi was all Isolde said he was cracked up to be. Then, before we leave the capital, I’d make time for Leliana to deal with Marjolaine. Simple, right?

When we made our final stop before entering the city limits, Alistair grabbed my arm and forcefully pulled me aside, away from the rest of our esteemed companions.

“Oooh, so aggressive this fine morning.” I smirked.  
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you did I?” He let go of my arm immediately. Disappointing. I rather enjoyed the more forceful side to his personality, but he so rarely let that show through. Every once in a while, however, that side of him would come out to play and it was… incredibly sexy. I don’t know a better way to describe it. Maybe eventually I’d find a way to coax it out of him more often. All in good time, Scarlett. All in good time.

“Oh for the love of... I’m not made of porcelain.” I reassured him. Maker's breath, I knew he meant well, but I was sick to death of people fussing over me.  
“I know, I know. Although your skin tone would suggest otherwise. How is it we’re almost constantly outside and you still look white as a spirit? It truly baffles the mind.” He teased. Then I took it upon myself to punch him in the shoulder. Psh. I was rather fond of my lily whiteness, thankyouverymuch. The sun is so overrated.

“Ouch! I bruise easily, you know? How are you feeling, anyway? You’re doing okay despite all this traveling, right? Have you seen Wynne lately? She should really check up on you more often.” Aww. I had to admit, he was so adorable when he worried like this.  
“Alistair, I’m fine. I promise.” I smiled.  
“Good.” He gave me a bright smile back. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you… Well, ask you, really.”  
“Oh?”  
“Well I should have probably mentioned it sooner but you kept telling me how you were feeling so overwhelmed and I didn’t want to add another weight onto your burden and—” Ah, the nervous ramble. I’d come to know it well.  
“Hey…” I found his hands with mine and squeezed them gently before leaving a brief, chaste kiss on his lips. “It’s okay. I’m feeling a lot better about things. You can tell me, okay?”  
He nodded slowly. “Okay, here goes. So, while we’re in Denerim, I was hoping we might be able to… look someone up.”  
Despite the kiss and hand-holding, he still seemed super tense. Okay, time for plan B—tease him until he blushes. “This wouldn’t happen to be some former lover of yours, would it?”  
He immediately scoffed. “A former what?! No! Do you honestly think I would suggest we go see… together? No!” Bingo.  
“Hey, I had to ask. I admit I can sometimes be the jealous type and you are such an eligible bachelor, after all. It’s important I know who the competition is.” I smirked.  
“…You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” he finally caught on.  
“Maybe… slightly…”  
“You’re so cruel to me.” He pouted.  
“Yes, yes, complain all you want. I’m not buying. We both know you love it.”  
He let a playful smile spread across his lips. “Guilty. Alright, here’s the thing.” He began, now seemingly a lot calmer. “I… have a sister. A half-sister. My mother had a daughter… only I never knew about her. I don’t think she know about me either. They kept my birth a secret, after all. But after I became a Grey Warden I did some checking and, well, I found out she’s still alive. In Denerim.”  
“Interesting… You dreamt about her, when we were in the Fade. I figured she was just a figment of your imagination after you never said anything about her for so long.”  
“I… did? I don’t even remember.”  
I nodded. “You were playing with her children and she was making supper and putting the laundry out to dry. It was really sweet, actually.”  
“…You really think so? You don’t think it’s sad and sort of… pathetic?”  
I shook my head. “It’s one of the things I love most about you. A lesser man would dream of riches or women or power. You dreamt of having a family. It made me start to realize…” Whoa, Scarlett. Let’s rein those feelings in a bit, shall we? “Well… it stuck with me.” I paused as I desperately thought of ways to steer the conversation away from my almost-confession. “Have you contacted her?”  
“No. I thought about writing her but I never did. And then we were called down to Ostagar and I never got the chance.”

He let it drop! Ha! Take that, emotions!

“She’s the only real family I have left. Well, the only family not mixed up in the whole royal thing. I’ve just been thinking that… maybe it’s time I went to see her. With the blight coming and everything, I don’t know if I’ll ever have another chance. Maybe I can help her. Warn her about the danger. I don’t know.”  
“I think we can manage to squeeze in some time for a little family reunion.” I smiled.  
“Could we?! I’d really appreciate it. If something happened to her and I never at least went to see her… I’m not sure if I could forgive myself, you know?”  
“Yeah, I totally get it. No worries.” Then my smile began to fade the more I thought about it. I so didn’t want to rain on his parade but… “Do you mind if I… raise a little caution flag?” I asked.  
“Raise away.”  
“Well, I just want to say that family… well… it can be complicated.”  
“…Complicated how?” he asked.  
“Well, I had this uncle. He would only visit a couple of times a year but he was just… the worst possible excuse for a human being. Always drunk, slovenly, lecherous… Ugh, he’d always grope me every chance he got and whenever I’d call him out on it he’d just shrug and say ‘Just saying hello to my favorite niece. What’s wrong with that?!’”  
“Maker, that’s terrible!”  
“It was, but he got his. I think he died in an alley somewhere… choked on his own vomit. A fitting end. Anyway, I digress. We also had this groundskeeper—Enslie. He was amazing. Despite how hard he worked, he’d always go out of his way to talk to me and ask me about my day and bring me fresh flowers and school me in chess. He meant more to me than my uncle ever did.”

I smiled slightly at the bittersweet memory of home. Then I felt that familiar lump beginning to form in my throat. Damnit. Focus!

“My point is… family is not always defined by blood. Sharing a few relatives doesn’t make someone inherently good or trustworthy. I just… want you to be prepared. In case this woman doesn’t live up to that pretty picture you have in your head. Okay?”  
His once cheerful expression had definitely soured but he nodded in assent. “Okay.”

Great, now I felt bad for even saying anything.

“Hey, that was just one measly example from my personal life. This Goldanna could be the Maker’s gift to mankind for all we know, right?! Come on, chin up buttercup!” I gave him my most enthusiastic smile.  
Alistair facepalmed. “Did you really just call me ‘buttercup’?”  
“I did. Did you like it? I could come up with more nicknames… Fluffybuns, cuppycake, loviekins…”

He turned bright red. I almost lost it.

“Oh for the love of Andraste…” he groaned.  
“You’re right. I’ll have to think of some better ones. They really don’t do someone as cute as you any justice.”  
“Cute? Cute?! Ow! You could just… stab me in the face first before you say something like that.”  
“What’s wrong with cute?!” I queried.  
“What man in his right mind wants to be cute? Rugged, yes. Handsome, sure. But cute?!”  
“Would you believe me if I told you I thought you were ruggedly handsome and cute at the same time?”  
“I don’t know. Can the two truly coexist?”  
“Hmm… I see your point. It’s a daring synthesis but, somehow, you manage to pull it off.” I pinched his cheek and I don’t know how he managed it, but he blushed even brighter. Maker’s breath it was endearing.

And so we pressed on and entered the city gates. Unlike Redcliffe, the city was bustling with chanters, merchants, gossiping nobility, drunken peasants… It was actually a rather huge relief. Some slice of the world had maintained a sense of normalcy and kept on turning, despite the impending doom and disaster that seemed to lurk around every corner. All the vigor and buzz from the locals gave me a jolt of energy that I hadn’t felt in weeks.

I asked around for a bit to see if anyone knew Genitivi’s address. No luck. Then I saw a familiar face… someone I’d seen around Ostagar. Surely he would try and help!

“I recognize you… from Ostagar.” He remarked. Great! “Andraste’s blood! You’re a Grey Warden. Duncan’s apprentice.” Something about his tone was not sitting well with me. Then his disposition became very hostile very fast. Uh oh. “You killed my friend. And good King Cailan. I demand satisfaction, ser.”

Well, a bold-faced lie here and there wasn’t going to hurt anyone, right?

“You must be mistaken.” I insisted. “I mean, come on. Do I really look like a Grey Warden to you?”  
He squinted hard and scrutinized my face. I batted my eyelashes and gave him my sweetest smile. That seemed to do the trick. “P-Pardon me. You must think I’m a fool. You really do look like… Too much ale. Yes, too much. Excuse me.” And away he went.

“Well, that was easier than I thought.” I muttered.  
“Ah, never underestimate the power of suggestion from a beautiful woman.” Zevran asserted. I just rolled my eyes.  
“Alas, you tell her she is beautiful and she swoons. I tell her she is beautiful and she completely dismisses me. Tell me, my friend. Where do I go wrong?”  
“Search me. I think I just got lucky. Really, really lucky.” Alistair replied.  
“Here’s a tip, Zev.” I offered. “Telling a woman she is beautiful is nice. Telling _every_ woman she is beautiful? Well, it loses its potency really fast.”  
“So I am to be punished for appreciating beauty in all its forms? It hardly seems fair.” He whined.  
“Oh do not fret, Zevran. I am sure you have no trouble filling your bed.” Leliana assured him.  
“There is a vacancy tonight if you are of a mind to fill it, my lithe little rogue.”

She was about to respond but I cut her off. From the look on her face, I wasn’t sure if she was disgusted or intrigued, but I so wasn’t interested in finding out.

“Oh Maker, let’s focus people! Short of trying our luck and blindly knocking on all the doors we come across, how are we going to find this guy?” I asked.  
“Well, there’s one place in Denerim that’s full of useful information.” Alistair suggested.  
“…The library?” I guessed.  
“Maker, no!” He let out a hearty laugh. “The tavern.”  
“Ah, of course. Why expand your brain with the written word when you can slowly kill it by drinking poison?”  
“Hmm… I seem to recall a certain someone having a penchant for wine.” He teased.  
“Shhh. We don’t speak of that. Wine is sacred.” I smirked. “Alright, the tavern it is. Let’s see if someone can point us in the right direction.”

The “Gnawed Noble” tavern—I kid you not, that was its name—was actually pretty nice, as far as the bar scene goes. Large green carpets and relatively clean wooden booths, some rooms for rent in the back, wenches that were fully clothed. Color me impressed. I figured the best place to start was with the bartender. People spill all sorts of things when they’re looking to drown their sorrows.

“Hello there.” I greeted warmly.  
“Hello. What can I do ya for?”  
“I’m actually looking for someone. A Brother Genitivi. Do you know where I might find him?”  
“Not for free I don’t. Order something or scram.”  
“Ah, how refreshing it is to see you city folk haven’t lost your manners.” I slammed ten silvers down on the bar.  
“Is that all you got?” he scoffed. Hey, I wasn’t exactly rolling in cash here. We looted whatever we came across but between food and supplies, it was not amounting to much. Okay, new plan.

“No, I also have this incredibly big sword.” I displayed the sword in all its enormous glory as I unsheathed it and twirled it a couple of times like a baton. “See? Shiny.” I pricked my finger on the tip of the blade. “Ouch. And apparently quite sharp. Shall we test it out?”  
He gulped audibly. “Nope. His house is right across from here.”  
“Pleasure doing business with you.” I retrieved my money, sheathed my sword, and turned away.  
“Maker help you, my young friend. Your Ferelden rose is certainly not without thorns.” Zevran whispered quite audibly to Alistair. “Ah, but look at those stems. I am sure it is more than worth the risk.”  
“Ugh. Will you kindly stop ogling her? She’s an actual person, you know. And I have no doubt she can hear every word you’re saying.”  
“Oh, I so can.” I confirmed sourly. “Let’s go.”

We went across the way and knocked on the door. Nothing. Stellar start. Then I turned the knob and found it was open. Kind of weird, but whatever. So, in we went.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” I called.  
“Yes? What are you doing here?” a young man replied. I didn’t think this was our man.  
“Who are you?”  
“My name is Weylon. I am the assistant of the scholar Brother Genitivi. This is his house.”  
“Well, at least we’re at the right place. Could you tell me where he is?”  
“Actually when I heard you come in I had hoped you’d come bearing news of him.”

Oh. Just peachy.

“He’s missing?” I asked.  
“I haven’t seen him in weeks. He’s sent no word. It’s so unlike him. Genitivi was on the trail of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I fear he has gotten too close to the truth. This search is a curse on all of us. Some things are not meant to be found.”  
“Please. It is imperative that we find him. Any information you have could be of vital importance.”  
He let out a huge sigh. “So be it. All he said before he left was that he’d be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad, investigating something in that area.”  
“What exactly was he investigating?” I asked.  
“I don’t know. All I discovered from going through his research was that he was staying at the inn.”

Hmmmmm… something wasn’t right. If he was truly Genitivi’s apprentice, why wouldn’t he share his research openly with him, as he had said not ten seconds ago? I had to call him out. No freaking way was I traveling all the way back to Lake Calenhad on misinformation.

“But… you just said he spoke to you and told you that.” I baited.  
He let out a nervous laugh. “Y-Yes, of course he told me, but I also went through his things to see if I could find other clues to his whereabouts.” Aha! Gotcha.  
“You sound rather nervous, Weylon. You wouldn’t be hiding something from little old me, now would ya?” I gripped my pommel tightly as I posed the question, making sure he noticed.  
“That’s… n-not true. I told you everything I know. Brother Genitivi told us… er… t-told me about the inn and that’s all!”  
“Us? Who’s ‘us,’ Weylon?” I twisted his name so he knew I was now filled to the brim with doubt that it belonged to him.  
“Us? I mean me! There is no ‘us’… Bah! Why do I keep up this charade?”  
“Funny, I was about to ask you the same question.”

And then, of course, he attacked us. And I took him out. And it was fun.

“Ahh, my first scoundrel killed after the whole Flemeth thing. It’s downright heart-warming.”  
“I swear, Scarlett. You should have been an Orlesian bard.” Leliana observed.  
“Nah. I can’t walk in heels, remember? All hope of stealth would be out the window. I’d be discovered immediately.” I smirked. “Okay, let’s look around.”

We snooped about for a bit and found the corpse of the real Weylon in the back room. Poor sod. We also found some of Genitivi’s research.

“It says here that Genitivi was headed for some village called ‘Haven’.” I’ve never even heard of that place. Have any of you?”  
“It’s in the Frostback Mountains.” Alistair explained.  
“Frostback Mountains, eh? I did not think it was possible, but that place sounds even colder than Ferelden women.” Zevran quipped.  
“Hardy har har.” I replied sardonically. “But yes, if I were a guessing person, I’d say we need some supplies to bundle up. We can’t slay an arch demon if we’re frozen solid. Where are these mountains, anyway?” I asked.  
“They’re actually just west of Redcliffe, if memory serves.” Alistair recalled.  
“Redcliffe. That place we just were. That place that’s hundreds of miles from here.” I hung my head and groaned. “Why is nothing ever easy? Why?”  
“Oh come on. ‘Chin up, buttercup.’” Alistair mimicked my earlier words. I gave him a nasty glare.  
“Alright, no way am I doing another 300 something miles on foot. We’re going to need mounts. And decent ones.”  
“Ah, allow me to take care of that. There are far too many fat wallets in this city and I’ve an itch to scratch.” Leliana offered.  
“What? You mean stealing?” Alistair clearly objected to the notion.  
“Come now, Alistair, we’re risking our lives every day so these proud citizens of Thedas can go on living theirs. We deserve some compensation. When the blight is over, we’ll give it all back. I promise.” I attempted to convince him.  
“Are you seriously considering this? There are good, hard-working people here!” He insisted.  
“Fine. Leliana, don’t steal from anyone unless they prove themselves to be corrupt assholes. Can you handle that?”  
“Oh, that should pose no problem in this city.” She smirked. Alistair folded his arms in disapproval.  
“It’s fine! It’s like she’s Robin Hood!” I beamed excitedly.  
“Has anyone ever told you that you read too much?” Alistair asked.  
I scoffed. “Only every day of my life.”

Alistair was about to retort but Zevran interrupted him.

“Meanwhile, I will head back to the tavern and earn some coin the honest way.”  
“…You don’t mean what I think you mean, do you?” I asked with an arched brow. Granted, we were a bit strapped for cash but I don’t think we needed to resort to prostitution quite yet.  
“Gambling.” Zev answered.  
I let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, great. Meanwhile, I’ll speak to some of the locals, check out the chanter’s board, see if there is some money to be earned that way. Mounts are not cheap and we’re in a hurry.”  
“In a hurry? But… we’re not leaving just yet, are we?” Alistair asked.  
“Yes, you’ll recall I have some unfinished business.” Leliana added.  
“Oh, right.” I slapped my forehead. “Okay, two long overdue reunions, coming right up.”


	18. A Score to Settle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Zevran lands in some hot water, Scarlett and Alistair are forced to face some basic differences in their moral codes. Despite the squabbling, Scarlett makes good on her promise and Leliana faces her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Enjoy!

As luck would have it, Leliana was not wrong: Denerim had more than its fair share of crooks, swindlers, and low-lives, and people were willing to pay someone like me and my merry little brood a decent amount of coin to rid the city of them. As I had become rather adept at disposing of such vermin, I took the job and brought Meatball, Morrigan, and Alistair with me. Fighting bad guys and making the streets clean again? Even someone as squeaky clean as Alistair couldn’t fault me for that. And why bring Morrigan and Alistair along without a referee, you might ask? Well, two reasons, really: 1) Leliana and Zev were using their own talents elsewhere while Wynne and Sten were haggling with the local merchants (believe it or not, the presence of a Qunari could be very persuasive when it came to getting a good deal) and 2) Call it a “social experiment.” I was so not convinced Morrigan and Alistair were in each other’s good graces after I forced their reconciliation. Maybe, just maybe, being forced to have each other’s backs in battle would soften them up a little. Or maybe I was totally delusional. Time would tell. 

“Oh boy, another dirty back alley. This is what, the third one in a row? You always take me to the nicest places. I am such a lucky man.” Alistair smirked.  
“Oh yeah, you just stick with me, kid. We’ll paint the town red… with the blood of our enemies! Mwahahaha!” Yep, it was official. Alistair’s silliness was rubbing off on me. An evil cackle? Really, Scarlett?  
“‘Kid’?! You’re like five minutes older than me!” He complained.  
“Oh relax. I probably have a couple of years on you. That gives me bragging rights.”  
“Oh, really? I’ve been kissing an older woman all this time? Scandalous.”

I grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him so hard I took his breath away. 

“Teenagers don’t kiss like that, Alistair. It’s a fine art. It takes time to hone such a skill.” I grinned devilishly.  
“Mmm…” he purred as he licked his lips. “You make your point quite vividly. Cradle-robber.” He grinned back.  
“Oh will you two desist?! You are making me ill.” Morrigan demanded, making no attempt to hide her utter disgust. I just chuckled and shook my head. That’s when I saw them coming toward us. 

“Uh oh. More gang members headed our way.” I warned.  
“All right. Who ordered death?” Alistair joked. Morrigan remained silent. Shocking. 

The four of us made quick work of them and headed back to the main part of the city to collect our reward from the chantry. Then we met a man named Sergeant Kylon and he gave us even more coin—which was awesome—and said he would do his best to dispel all the bad rumors surrounding the Grey Wardens. Double prizes! He seemed rather stressed about his own problems, but the day was getting away from us and we still had a lot to do before leaving the city. I was sure we’d be back at some point and I could return his kindness then. 

I decided I’d better go back to the Gnawed Noble and check on Zev. Call it woman’s intuition, but I had a feeling I was going to find him in a rather compromising position, one way or another. 

“Ah, greetings my long-legged goddess.” He was sitting across the table from a rather tubby fellow with a bald head and humongous sweat stains under his arms. Playing cards were strewn all across the tabletop along with a few coins, none of which were near Zevran’s side. Oh, and did I mention Zevran was stark naked? Maker, I hate being right all the time. 

“So, how goes the gambling, Zev? I can see you’re really taking him to the cleaners.” I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot as I waited for an explanation.  
“Oh, I am merely biding my time.” He insisted.  
“No, you ain’t! I got everyfin’ you own, I does! This her?” Inquired tubby. “Tall drink o’ water, eh? Well, she’s got some meat on her bones and looks nice and sturdy. I guess she’ll do.” Oh boy, I so did not like the sound of that.  
“…What is he talking about?” I asked through gritted teeth.  
“I may have… sweetened the pot a little too much.” Zevran admitted hesitantly.  
“And what, pray tell, did you sweeten it with, Zevran?!” I was getting angry now.  
“Oh! Well…my clothing, my weapons, and… a night with you.” he muttered and tried to stifle the words by placing his hand over his mouth casually.  
“WHAT?!” Alistair and I cried out in unison. That is, before Alistair attempted to lunge himself full force at the nude elf. I didn’t even care or try to stop him. Zevran deserved it.  
“Now, now.” Morrigan began, placing her staff between the elf and the now super-pissed off Warden. “As much as I would love to see Zevran beat you to a bloody pulp in the nude, Alistair, I am sure there is some way to work this out.” You know the situation is bad when Morrigan has to step in and be the voice of reason. Somehow, she did manage to give Alistair pause. No idea how that happened but I wasn’t going to question it, I guess.  
“No way! I won her fair n’ square!” Tubby insisted.  
“I am not a fucking prize to be won!” I growled.  
“Oh, she’s got spirit, ain’t she? I can’t wait to see what’s under all that armor.”  
“That’s it. He’s dead.” And I lunged myself at the fat guy while Alistair proceeded to tackle Zevran.  
“Wait, wait!” Zevran pleaded in between the groans following Alistair’s blows. “Don’t kill him! It will destroy my reputation!”  
“Oh, because your precious reputation has been just sterling up until this point?!” I asked furiously before I punched tubby in the face. Again.  
“I do not believe he will last much longer, Scarlett. If you truly wish him dead then by all means continue, but if not, you may want to consider another approach.” Morrigan reasoned. I got off of him, my fist swollen and bloody (his blood, not mine) from breaking the bones in his face. He got up as quickly as he could—which was not very quick at all—and stumbled away while trying to stop the blood from gushing out of his nose.  
“Welch on my winnings, will ya?! You haven’t heard the last of me!” He threatened as he fled. Instead of heading for the door, however, he hobbled his way to one of the back rooms of the tavern. Ugh. That can’t be good. 

“The situation was well in hand, you know. I had no intention of handing you over to such a foul creature.” Zevran claimed, black and blue marks already painting his bare torso. Say what you will about Alistair—the boy knows how to throw a punch… or in this case, probably more like twenty punches.  
“To be perfectly honest, Zev, I could not care less. Don’t you ever, EVER, use me as a bargaining chip. Do you understand me?” I glared at him. That sort of thing didn’t fly when my parents tried to marry me off and it sure as shit wasn’t going to fly now.  
“But I…” he hung his head in resignation. “Yes ma’am.” 

Then tubby came back outside to meet us. 

“My boss wants a word wif you.” He said while repeatedly wiping his still bloody nose on his sleeve.  
“And just who is your boss?” I asked.  
“Someone not to be trifled wif, if ya know what’s good for ya. Follow me.”  
“Oh that doesn’t sound menacing at all. We could just, you know, leave, couldn’t we?” Alistair suggested.  
“Between the Crows and Leliana and Howe and Loghain I’m looking over my shoulder enough as it is. I’d rather not add someone else to the list if we can avoid it.” I explained.  
Alistair sighed. “Fine. But let it be known that I suggested we avoid this nastiness altogether, yes?”  
“Duly noted.” I gave him a smile as we followed tubby to the back room. 

As soon as we entered the room I heard an audible gasp from Zevran. 

“What is it?” I whispered.  
“He’s… he’s a Crow. His name is Ignacio.” Zev whispered back.  
“Oh. You’ve got to be kidding me.” I mumbled.

“My cohort here tells me you rob him of what’s his.” The Crow greeted us as tubby took his leave.  
“My unclothed friend here got in over his head, it seems. I do apologize, but I am in no position to make good on what he offered your little lackey. It would seem he will just have to owe you one.” See? It wasn’t always punch or stab first thing. I could be civil. Sheesh.  
“Do not make me indebted to one such as him. This could have been a trap all along.” Zevran explained.  
“Zevran, is it? Other Crows may try to kill you but in my eyes, you are already dead.”  
“Great! Dead men are usually relieved of their debts so if you’ll excuse us…” I attempted to turn around and walk away.  
“Uh uh uh.” Ignacio chided. “Payment is still owed. And you, Warden, are of great interest to me.”  
“Me? I thought I was nothing more than a mark to you Crows.”  
“I cannot stress enough that I was not paid to harm you in any way. My associate was and he has failed and failed badly.” He stared icily at Zevran.  
“She’s tougher than she looks. I’d like to see you do any better.” Zevran retorted.  
Ignacio scoffed. “I would never be so foolish as to take such a contract. But it is true, the job may fall to someone else. I am hoping we may prevent that from coming to pass.”  
“…I’m listening.”  
“Ferelden is a busy place. Blight. Civil War. Utter mayhem. Lots of people not getting along. Some of them really don’t get along. Maybe you want to do something about it…”  
“Are you… offering me a job?” I asked, making no effort to hide my disbelief.  
“It is not everyday someone crosses a Crow’s path and lives to tell the tale. You could be of great use to us. You know, make some coin. Keep the customers happy.”  
“…How would this work?” I asked, although I could feel that familiar heat from Alistair’s stare of disapproval once again boring into my back. Great. Camp should be fun tonight.  
“I hand you a scroll that will reveal the name of a… person of interest. Then, if something unfortunate happens to befall him, I give you money when next we meet. You don’t like what’s on the scroll, don’t do anything.”  
“Will this void the contract on my life?” I asked.  
“That… I cannot do. But, if you help us out, maybe the master running the contract will receive silence instead of eager volunteers.” 

I sighed heavily and weighed the pros and cons. Pro: Money. Con: Murder in cold blood was really not my thing. Pro: Crows would likely get off my back. Con: I’d be helping the same people who tried to help Loghain and end my life. What is a girl to do? 

“…Hand me the scroll.” I ordered. “And for the love of Andraste, give Zevran back his clothes.”  
“I see no reason why I should.” Ignacio crossed his arms defiantly after handing over the piece of paper.  
“Call it a gesture of good faith.” I insisted. 

He gathered Zevran’s effects and threw them at him. 

“You are a cautious little weasel, Ignacio.” Zev spat at him while rushing to clothe himself. “What’s your angle? If you’re playing us false—”  
“Save your breath, whoreson. You are dead to me.” He brought his eyes back up to meet mine. “If that’s all, luck be to you.” 

I took that as our cue to leave and walked out. 

“So you’re an assassin now, right?” Alistair asked coldly.  
“I am nothing but a girl with a scroll in her hand.” I countered.  
“Uh huh. We’ll see.”  
“Let’s have this argument later, okay? We need to find Leliana.”  
“Ah yes, our little ‘Robin Hood’. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor is still stealing, you know. And murdering a conniving bastard is still murder.” Alistair reprimanded.  
“You know what, Alistair? Some men just have it coming. And I am not above giving them their just desserts. When Rendon Howe took it upon himself to murder everyone I loved like a thief in the night, do you think he had a sudden attack of conscience as my home burned to the ground around him? Because I’m inclined to think he really didn’t give a fuck.”  
“What happened in Highever was terrible. I would never suggest otherwise. But haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘two wrongs don’t make a right?’ Do you really want to stoop to his level?” he asked.  
“I know. Nothing will ever set things right. That’s impossible. But knowing the man who destroyed my life, who robbed me of my family and my homeland is dead by my hand, the hand wielding my dead father’s sword, will help me sleep just a little bit more soundly. But by all means, you go ahead and keep seeing the world through those rose-colored lenses of yours.” And for the first time when talking about all I’d lost, I didn’t feel overcome with sadness. I felt… anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, clearly annoyed.  
“You see things as either entirely good or entirely evil with nothing in between. That’s not the way the world works, Alistair. There is no clear line between right and wrong. Nothing is that black and white. Nothing is ever that simple. So you keep on being an idealist, and I’ll remain here in reality where I acknowledge the existence of a moral spectrum. K?” As soon as the last word escaped my mouth I regretted it. I was being mean and I hated being mean, especially to someone I care about. He just really knew how to push my buttons sometimes. 

“Well, well, is the honeymoon over so soon?”  
“Shut up, Morrigan!” Alistair and I yelled in unison. We had to stop doing that. She just grinned in her usual, unnerving way. 

We exited the tavern and ran into Leliana right outside.

“Well, how did we do?” I asked, trying to cool down from the quarrel. “Better than Zevran, I hope.”  
“Oh, we could buy our own stable if we wanted to with all I managed to plunder.” She grinned. “And I promise, all of them deserved far worse fates than this.”  
“I believe you.” I tried to smile but that little tiff with Alistair had done nothing for my mood. And the day had started off so well, too. “Are you ready to face your demons?” I asked her.  
“Demons?! Where are they?!” Zevran looked around frantically.  
I facepalmed. “It’s a bloody expression, Zev.”  
“…Oh. You speak so oddly sometimes.”  
“So I’ve been told. Anyway, Leliana, are you ready?”  
She took a deep breath. “As I will ever be.” She removed the crudely drawn assassin’s note from her breastplate and led the way. 

We came upon a wooden door and were attacked immediately upon opening it. Never a good sign. Luckily there were only two of them against the six of us, so no biggie. Then we went into the next room. 

“Leliana, ah, so lovely to see you again my dear.” A pretty brunette I was betting was Marjolaine greeted her in a thick Orlesian accent.  
“Spare me the pleasantries. I know your—”  
“Oh you must excuse the shabby accommodations.” She interrupted Leliana. “I do try to be a good host but you see what I have to work with?”  
“We killed your guards.” I deadpanned. I was in no mood for this.  
“So business-like your companion.” Marjolaine observed.  
“You framed me. Had me caught and tortured.” Leliana’s voice was thick with unshed tears. She really must have loved her at one point. She said they were friends but nothing cuts quite as deeply as the betrayal of a lover. I didn’t have a ton of experience, but that I knew for sure. “I thought that in Fereldan I would be free of you, but it appears I am not. What happened to make you hate me so? Why do you want me dead so badly?”  
“Dead? Nonsense. I know you, my Leliana. I know what you are capable of. Four or five men you could dispatch easily. They were to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are.” Oh, she was good.  
“You could have, oh I don’t know, sent a letter.” I suggested.  
“You are so transparent.” Leliana accused her. “What are you up to, Marjolaine? Why are you in Ferelden?”  
“In truth? You have knowledge that you can use against me. For my own safety I cannot let you be. I’ve been watching you all this time, Leliana. And after a while, I had begun to think you had really changed. You almost had me fooled. Then you left the chantry oh so suddenly. What conclusion should I draw? You tell me.”  
“You think I left because of you? You think I still have some plan for… revenge? You are insane. Paranoid.”  
“Seriously. Not everything is about you, Marjolaine.” I rolled my eyes. Self-absorbed bitch.  
“If I were you, I would believe nothing she says.” Marjolaine warned me. “She will use you. You look at her and you see a simple girl—a friend, warm and caring. It is an act.”  
“I am not you, Marjolaine.” Leliana explained. “I left because I did not want to become you.”  
“Oh but you are me. You cannot escape it. We are the same. You enjoyed the game, just as much as I do.”  
“I trust Leliana. No matter what you say.” I said plainly. And you know what? I actually meant it.  
“Thank you.” Leliana replied. “You will not threaten me or my friends again, Marjolaine. I want you out of my life, forever. You have caused so many so much pain for too long. It ends here.”  
“And you think you can kill me, just like that? I made you, Leliana. I can destroy you just as easily.” 

And then about 50 men (or so it felt like—I lost count) came charging into the room as though they’d been eavesdropping the entire time. Despite her ill-timed wisecracks, Maker was I glad to have Morrigan back. When you’re vastly outnumbered, having a mage comes in mighty handy. And Marjolaine, despite appearances, was a pretty tough customer. I would let Leliana handle her, though, unless she asked for my help. I didn’t want to rob her of her catharsis. As it turned out, the student had become the master and she had virtually no problem taking her out. 

When all that unpleasantness was taken care of, we met up with Wynne and Sten in the marketplace and proceeded to secure the rest of the supplies we needed for our journey. Then, as the sun began to set and we were making our way the city gates, Alistair stopped me right in front of someone’s front door.


	19. Teachable Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mildly NSFW! 
> 
> After he and Scarlett patch things up, Alistair learns a hard lesson once he realizes his sister is anything but welcoming. Having suffered through such a terrible day, he and Scarlett decide to blow off some steam by going for a swim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it getting warm in here? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading and comments/kudos always make my day. Thanks!

“That’s my sister’s house. I’m almost sure of it. This is… Yes, this is the right address. She could be inside… Could we go and see?” Alistair asked, half eager, half unsure.  
“You don’t need my permission. Knock yourself out. I’ll be at camp.” I answered coldly.  
“But… I… I’d like you to be with me.” he admitted softly.  
“Surely you wouldn’t want the company of an evil-doer such as myself. I’ll only drag you down.” I crossed my arms in a huff. Yes, I was still a bit sore about earlier. Sue me.  
“Look, I don’t think that of you. I will never think that of you.” He began gently as he reached for my hands and held them in his. “I meant what I said when I gave you that rose. Maker, it seems so long ago now, but it still holds true. You are my only light in all this darkness. You’re my hope. You’re my strength. You’re… well, you mean everything to me.”

Oh man. When he says things like that it sets my heart all a-flutter. How could I stay mad now?

I squeezed his hands gently and moved closer to him.

“You’re very sweet.” I gave him a slow smile before reverting back to my more serious expression. “But I can’t be that, Alistair. I can’t be your everything.”  
“…What are you saying?” He asked, the worry painfully apparent on his face.  
“I’m saying that I know it’s hard to shake the thought of just running away from all of this sometimes. I stay because I know we have to see this through to the end. I'm saying I care about you and I admit, there are times when you keep me going, too. But I can’t be the _only_ reason you keep going. You need to find that resolve, that strength within yourself. I know it’s there. I’ve seen it.” I placed my hand on his chest. “This. This is your greatest asset.”  
“But… I thought I was just some senseless dreamer. Head in the clouds, no grip on reality… Is this ringing a bell?”  
My eyes fell as I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I may have been a little… hard on you earlier. You are a good man, Alistair. Something that is so wonderful and rare in this wicked world. Don’t lose that. Despite how it might frustrate me sometimes, we need that pure heart of yours. Let yourself listen to it.”  
He placed his hand on top of mine and gave me a soft smile. “I did. It led me to you.”

He leaned in for a kiss but I pressed firmly against his chest to stop him and met his eyes.

“It will take you further than that if you let it. I think greatness is in store for you, Alistair. I’ll do my best to show you the door, but you have to be the one to walk through it.”

He could be king. More than that, he could be a great king—something Ferelden was in desperate need of in these dark times. All he needed was a little… nudging.

“I don’t want greatness. I want you.” He leaned in again with that familiar hunger in his eyes, and this time I didn’t stop him. I felt the comforting warmth of his lips brush against mine as I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight, which he took as his cue to kiss me even deeper. And then we heard hooting and hollering from some of the drunkards wandering the street. Talk about romantic.

“Yep, we sure are still out in public.” He grinned once the kiss broke.  
“Hey, you started it.” I smirked back. “What were we talking about before we got sidetracked? Oh. Right. Your sister’s house. Are you sure you want me with you for this? It seems like it should be a private moment…”

As soon as I brought it back up he became ashen and started fidgeting with his hands.

“You seem a bit nervous…” I observed.  
“Do I? Probably because I am. I really don’t know what to expect. I’d like you to be there with me, if you’re willing. Or we could leave, I suppose… We really don’t have time to pay a visit, do we? Maybe we should go…” There it was—that nervous ramble I’d come to know and love.  
“Alright.” I found his hand and laced his fingers with mine. “Let’s see if she’s home.”  
“Will she even know who I am? Does she even know I exist? My sister. That sounds very strange. SIS-TER. SSSSIIIISSSSTERRR. Hmm… oh now I’m babbling. Maybe we should go. Let’s go. Let’s. just. go.”

Maker’s breath, could he be more adorable?

Somehow he seemed to lose control of all his motor skills as soon as we turned to face the door so I knocked for him. No answer but the door seemed to be open so in we strolled. Does no one lock their doors in Denerim? Given all we’d encountered in this city, that seemed like a terrible life decision.

I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Go on.” I whispered.  
“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat. “Uhh… Hello?” he called.

And in she walked. She seemed normal enough. Her features were pointy and petite, and she was pretty nondescript in just about every other aspect of her appearance. She was certainly not the looker her brother was; I saw absolutely nothing of Alistair in her. Although, from what I’d seen, Alistair definitely got his looks from his father.

“You have linens that need to be washed? I charge three bits on a bundle. You won’t find better.” She offered.  
“I’m… not here to have any wash done, heh. My name’s Alistair. I’m… well… this may sound sort of strange but, are you Goldanna? If so, I suppose I’m… your brother.” He sounded so excited, like a little kid about to receive a birthday present. But from the sour expression on his sister’s face, I had a feeling he was in for a rude awakening.

“My what? I am Goldanna, yes… How do you know my name? What tomfoolery are you folk up to?”  
“Maybe I should go…” Things were already starting to get tense fast and I so didn’t want to be in the middle of it.  
“No, no! Don’t go. Please. Stay for now.” He squeezed my hand. “Look, our mother? She worked as a serving girl in Redcliffe castle a long time ago before she died. Do you know about that? She—”  
“You! I knew it! They told me you were dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!”  
“They told you I was dead? Who? Who told you that?”  
“Them’s at the castle! I told them the babe was the king’s and they said he was dead. Gave me a coin to keep my mouth shut and sent me on my way! I knew it!”  
“I’m sorry I… didn’t know that. The babe didn’t die. I’m him. I’m… your brother.” He sounded so sincere. It was breaking my heart.  
“Ugh.” She scoffed. “For all the good it does me. You killed mother, you did, and I’ve had to scrape by all this time? That coin didn’t last long and when I went back they ran me off! And who in the Maker’s name are you?” She glared at me. “Some tart to follow him about and carry his riches for him?”

I bit my tongue so hard I thought I could detect the metallic taste of my own blood. Be good, Scarlett. You’re doing this for Alistair. Don’t blow it for him.

“Hey, don’t speak to her that way! She’s my… friend.” He paused before settling on his word choice, but I think he made the right call. The last thing we needed was to add more fuel to this fire. Come to think of it, I suppose that’s what I was. We weren’t lovers, really. Not yet. A situation I hoped we could soon remedy but hey, I wasn’t going to rush it. “And a Grey Warden, just like me.”

She was so not impressed. “Ooohh I see. A prince and a Grey Warden, too? Well who am I to think poorly of someone so high and mighty compared to me? I don’t know you, boy. Your royal father forced himself on my mother and took her away from me. And what do I got to show for it? Nothing. They tricked me good. I should have told everyone! I got five mouths to feed and unless you can help with that, I got less than no use for you.”

That Goldanna, what a class act. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I guess all that effort to keep my mouth shut manifested elsewhere, and I was digging my nails into the back of Alistair’s hand. He squeezed my hand hard to let me know I was hurting him before responding.

“I… I’m sorry. I… don’t know what to say.” Now I could hear the heartbreak in his voice as well, and I was caught between feeling incredibly sorry for him and feeling incredibly pissed at her. Breathe, Scarlett. Breathe.

“Goldanna,” I began as mildly as I could muster, “Alistair came here looking for his family.”  
“Well, he found it. And what good is that to me? None, that’s what, unless he can see to it that his family lives as it should!” Ugh, don’t fall for it, Alistair. Just don’t.

He looked at me and said, “I suppose maybe I could give her some money to help with my nieces and nephews. Fifteen sovereigns maybe, would you let me give her that?” He looked like a puppy who had just been kicked. He was trying so hard to salvage this. How could I say no?

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”  
“Then here, Goldanna. I know it’s not much, but—”  
“You, a prince, marching in here with your fancy armor and such and this is all you’ve got to offer? You must think I'm very stupid.”

And I was back to digging my nails in his hand again. Oops.

“No, wait! I don’t think that at all! I want to help if I can…”  
“You want to help? You go to whatever high and mighty folks you run with and tell them you’ve got nephews and nieces that aren’t living as they’ve a right to! You do that!”  
“Alistair, this is a waste of bloody time. There is nothing for you here.” I said it as soothingly as I could, but Maker preserve me, I could no longer stay silent.  
“Yes, it really seems that way, doesn’t it? I wasn’t expecting my sister to be so… I’m starting to wonder why I came.”  
“I don’t know why you came either. Or what you expected to find. But it isn’t here! Now get out of my house, the both of you!” Wow. What a raging bitch.  
“I agree.” Alistair said, dejected. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sure, we could leave. But not before I gave that greedy wench a piece of my mind! I guess the anger and vitriol were plain on my face, because as soon as I began to open my mouth Alistair was quick to stop me.

“Scarlett! Please. It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”  
“Ugh. Fine. Have it your way.”

And out the door we went.

“Well… that was… not what I expected, to put it lightly. This is the family I’ve been wondering about all my life? That gold-digging harridan is my sister? I can’t believe it.”

Don’t say I told you so. Don’t say I told you so. Don’t say I told you so.

“Well, I tried to warn you…” Damnit, Scarlett! You had one job!  
“I… guess I was expecting her to accept me without question. Isn’t that what family is supposed to do? I… I feel like a complete idiot.”  
“Hey…” I began as I ran the back of my hand down his cheek. “You’re not an idiot. A loving home is something everyone wants. It makes total sense that you wanted to seek that out.”  
“You… you saw this coming. I should have listened to you. Hope is just a tough thing to kill, I guess.”  
“Like I said before, you're a good man, Alistair. Almost to a fault. But don't allow people to take advantage of that. Don't be afraid to put yourself first every once in awhile. You'll be a lot happier.”

Okay, the seed had been planted. Let’s see if it takes root.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Let’s just go. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”  
“Well, I still have some of Leliana’s coin left… are there any good places to eat around here?”  
He chuckled slightly. “Not really, but I suppose compared to my cooking anything will do.”

So we went to the tavern and grabbed some food before heading back to camp. It was so tempting to just rent a room but I didn’t want the others thinking we’d abandoned them and run off together or something.

When we arrived the first thing I noticed was Leliana sitting alone, away from everyone else. It wasn’t like her. Maybe this whole Marjolaine thing was hitting her harder than she initially let on. I started making my way to her when Wynne cornered me with Meatball in tow.

“Your dog is filthy. I can smell him fifty yards off.” She lectured.  
Meatball gave a hurt whine.  
“That’s good. He will fell our enemies with his stench.” I smirked.  
“That may be so, but I would like permission to bathe him. I saw a small lake nearby.”

I knelt down and scratched him behind the ears.

“You could do with a good washing, old boy. You going to behave?”  
He whined some more.  
“There might be treats in it for you…” I tempted him. Then I got the happy bark. I knew he’d see reason.  
“Alright, I accept your offer. Thanks, Wynne.” I smiled.

As she led him away, I made my way toward Leliana.

“Oh, hello. Is there something you wanted to talk about?” She asked in her most pleasant tone, her face as expressionless as any Orlesian mask. I wasn’t buying it. Something was definitely wrong.

“I… I’d like to talk about what happened earlier today. With Marjolaine.”  
“It is nothing… I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”  
“What are you thinking about? Not that I mean to pry, you just look… I don’t know…”

She paused pensively before opening her mouth again.

“I can’t get what happened out of my head. I’d been in Lothering for years and she still thought I was plotting against her. She didn’t trust me. Maybe she never did. She loved me when she could use and control me, and when she found out she couldn’t, she wanted me dead. It… it hurts to realize that I never really knew her.”  
I sighed. “If there’s one thing I can say about the people I’ve met today, it’s that they’ve done nothing to restore my faith in humanity. I’m sorry. I know you were close. Some people are just… rotten.”  
She nodded. “Has anyone ever told you consolation is not your forte?”  
I gave her a shy smile. “Sorry. Is there anything I can do?”  
“You’re already doing so much by just listening to me. I knew she was ruthless, but I didn’t know how far she could go. She’s cruel. She uses people and discards them once they have served their purpose. What if she was right? What if we’re the same? I should have just… stayed at the chantry.”

Her eyes were a mix of stubbornness, worry, and deceit. It was an interesting combination. She feared this side of herself, the wild one, the selfish one, the one that craved adventure. But from what I'd seen since I'd known her, that is exactly who she was born to be. 

“Leliana… come on. You know you’re better than that.”  
“Maybe I’m not. Maybe there is no Maker and it’s just something I tell myself so I don’t feel so alone.”

Now that pleasant façade was starting to unravel. Geez. Had she been carrying around all this guilt and self-doubt all this time? She’d been there for me numerous times by now. Somehow it never occurred to me that she was fighting her own inner demons. I guess we all were.

“Hey… you’re not alone.” I offered gently.  
“But I was. I was alone and desperate when I fled to Ferelden—the only place I knew would take me. I left my old life behind—a life that ruined Marjolaine. It will ruin me too.”  
“That’s not true.”  
“Scarlett, when I killed her I… I enjoyed it. Seeing her dead gave me satisfaction.”  
“She betrayed you. Had you tortured. Left you to rot in that cell. This is not an extraordinary reaction.”  
“Marjolaine would rejoice in someone’s death. I… do not want that. What we’re doing, what we’ve done… hunted men down, killed them. Part of me loves it. And it scares me to death.”  
“You’re a good person, Leliana.”  
“How can you be so sure?”  
“Evil doesn’t worry about not being good.” I explained plainly.  
“That… makes a lot of sense, actually. I can always trust you to show me things from a different perspective. Thank you. I think I’d like to be alone for now. I have many things to consider.”  
I nodded. “You know where to find me if you need to.” I smiled.

…

I don’t know why, but long after everyone had turned in for the night, I was still out by the fire. My thoughts just would not stop turning. Everyone seemed to be facing their fears or their past or both, learning a great deal about themselves in the process. Alistair was so sure of himself, so clearly guided by his own strong sense of right and wrong. And then his miserable sister comes along and shatters the world that had made so much sense to him only hours earlier. And Leliana... despite all her efforts to escape her past, she was borne ceaselessly back into it. She was terrified of becoming her mentor, someone cold and calculating and ruthless. And then there was me, a girl who left hundreds dead in her wake and barely gave it a second thought most days. What did that mean? What in the Maker's name was I becoming? 

“You’re up late.” Alistair greeted me.  
“How do you always manage to catch me out here?” I asked. I swear, it was like he had a sixth sense.  
“Actually I think it’s usually you who catches me, remember?”  
I smiled. “I suppose so.”  
“Can’t sleep again?”  
I sighed. “I haven’t even tried yet. My thoughts are sort of reeling. It’s been… a heck of a day.”  
“That it has.” He nodded.  
“How are you holding up?” I asked. That whole Goldanna thing had to be a bitter pill to swallow.  
“I just… want to forget today ever happened.”  
I nodded in agreement. “A wise decision, although I’m pretty sure the sight of you tackling a naked Zevran will be forever etched in my memory.”  
“Hahaha. Well, he had it coming.” He smiled warmly.  
“That he did. Although I’m not convinced a part of him didn’t enjoy it.” I smirked.  
“Ugh,” he scoffed, “Let’s not even go there.” He paused for a moment before a knowing smile reappeared on his lips. “Tell me something… When is the last time you just… had some fun?”  
“Not counting slaying dragons or killing darkspawn or anything like that?”  
“Right, apart from all those fun things.”

I paused to really think about it. Fun for its own sake? It had been… awhile.

“I don’t really remember.” I explained.  
“That’s what I thought. Come with me.” He got up and offered me his hands. I took them and rose to my feet.

He led me to the lake Wynne must have been talking about when she offered to bathe Meatball. It looked indescribably beautiful. The moon was full and bright and its beams were shining all along the water’s calm. Thousands of fireflies were dancing along the surface as the crickets sang into the night. We stopped along the small beach that framed the water's edge. Then Alistair took off his shirt.

“And what is this?” I asked.  
“You are going to have some fun, young lady.”

I looked him over and Maker, was he beautiful. A swath of extremely kissable freckles colored his broad chest. My eyes fell lower to the rippling muscles of his abdomen, the thin line of dark blond hair leading from his navel to... elsewhere. Everything was so firm and chiseled and the way the moonlight was playing off his skin… he was really something to behold. I honestly had no idea he had all that going on beneath that heavy armor he usually wore. I mean, we’d shared a few heated moments before now, but to just see him there, on display in such a way… Well, let’s just say this was on a whole other level. Then he began to remove his pants.

“And just what kind of fun are we talking about here?” I inquired. Although I had to admit, I liked where this was going.

“We’re going swimming, of course.” He grinned as he stood before me in his smallclothes.

Oh. Damn.

“That water is probably freezing!” I protested.  
“Oh honestly Scarlett, where is your sense of adventure?”

And with that he got a running start and just jumped right in.

I stood at the water’s edge after removing my boots and dipped my toe in. And it was absolutely frigid. Did I mention how I hate being right all the time?

“Oh will you stop making such a fuss? You’ll get used to it! Come on!” 

He was challenging me, and despite my every instinct telling me not to rise to it, I gave in. I removed my clothes until all that was left were my undershirt and my panties. Then, I ever so slowly inched my way into the ice-cold water.

“Will you hurry up?! You’re not getting any younger, you know!”

Ugh, I knew I’d live to regret telling him I was older than him.

And then that little buffoon splashed me. And not some little playful thing. He covered me. I was positively drenched. Oh, it was on. Gauntlet had been thrown. Challenge accepted.

With new determination, I jumped into the water and started to track him down. As soon as he saw me coming for him, he bolted. I swam as quickly as I could and when I finally caught up, I splashed him threefold. Ha! Take that! And then it was my turn to run away as he sought revenge. And wouldn’t you know it? Despite the subzero water and the horrible day we’d had, we were giggling nonstop and screaming and carrying on. We really were having fun.

Eventually I swam far enough away that I found a shallower portion of the lake. I stood up so the surface of the water was hitting my belly button, took my hair out of my braid and loosened it up a bit with my fingers, gave him my best seductive stare, and I beckoned him closer with a single finger. He immediately swam toward me.

He stood up so his eyes were level with mine.

“Maker, I do love it when you let that hair down.” He admitted as he started to lean into me, the heat from his breaths giving me goosebumps. I let a slow grin play across my lips. “Truce?” he asked.

And I slowly leaned in to meet him… my face only millimeters away from his… and pushed him with all my strength so he fell straight back into the deeper water. Haha! I got him good! Victory was mine!

... Only he wasn’t coming back up. What was taking him so long? Something was wrong. I began to move closer to where he fell to investigate when I felt something wrap around my ankles and pull me under. That bastard!

We both came up and gasped for air. When I could breathe again I punched him hard in the shoulder.

“Don’t scare me like that!” I yelled at him.  
“Haha! What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?” He taunted.

I moved to wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“I’m fairly certain I can take whatever you can dish out. Trust me.” I smirked against his lips and began rocking my hips slowly against him. It wasn’t even a conscious gesture. They just started moving on their own, I swear.

“Mmmmm…” I heard him purr as he placed his hands on my hips and started rocking in the same motion with me. Apparently the cold water didn’t dampen his spirits any. I could feel he was very happy to have my body so close to his.

I brushed my lips across his slowly at first, which he reciprocated. Then, as I felt his warm tongue begin to enter my mouth, I felt his hands beginning to roam up inside the back of my soaked shirt. Oh, sod it. I raised my arms above my head and threw the shirt on shore.

The look on his face when he saw me so exposed to him for the first time, I’ll never forget it. He was… mesmerized. Entranced. I don’t know why I seemed to have such an effect on him, but I really, really liked that I did.

“Maker preserve me.” He whispered as I felt his chest rising and falling hard against my now bare skin with each heated breath he took. Somehow, I didn’t feel so cold anymore. I laced my fingers behind his neck as he moved his hands from my back to my breasts, fondling and massaging them gently as though they were the most delicate things in the world. 

I bit his bottom lip as the rhythm of my hips grew faster, and he had no problem keeping pace with me.

“Scarlett…” he whispered across my lips, his voice an equal mix of lust and apprehension. The thought crossed my mind that we should stop before things went too far, but he did nothing to suggest he really wanted to. His hands were still caressing my breasts; his lips and teeth began trailing over that delightfully sensitive area where my shoulder meets my neck; his hips were still rocking in that delicious rhythm with mine.

“Alistair...” I answered back between the quickened pace of our breathing. 

His only response was to kiss me hard and move his hands lower to hold my hips tightly against his. Feeling his hardness right against me, knowing only two thin layers of fabric were separating us from crossing that forbidden line, it was driving me crazy in the best way.

And then his hips stopped moving altogether and I heard him let out a long, slow moan into my mouth. The friction from our movements had apparently been enough for him to go soaring over the edge. Merciful Andraste, just hearing him achieve his release was almost enough to get me there, too. I admit it; I am a complete sucker for that boy's voice. I kept kissing him but his body stiffened, all tension and worry and I couldn’t be sure since all we had was the moonlight, but I think I saw a bright blush paint his cheeks and chest. Then the embarrassment hit him full force. Poor dear.

“Oh Scarlett, I am so, so sorry. That was not supposed to happen. I am such a—”  
“Shhhh…” I placed a single finger against his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”  
“But I—”  
“Alistair…” I interrupted, a sly grin plastered across my lips. “Trust me. This is the most fun I’ve had in a very, very long time.”


	20. Clearing the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their time at the lake Alistair seems distant, and Scarlett gets a taste of rejection. Rather than mope around, Scarlett decides to take Ignacio up on his offer tie up some loose ends in Denerim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and for your comments and kudos! They keep me going!

The next morning, Alistair seemed to be… deliberately avoiding me. Well, avoiding everyone, really. Wynne had prepared some breakfast for us all and he just remained in his tent. I don’t know where she picked it up, but Maker could that mage cook. Alistair knew this and for him to miss out… it really was not like him. Let me tell you, having someone you care for give you the cold shoulder? It’s not a good feeling. It made me feel extra badly about what I’d put him through after that night in Redcliffe. Putting yourself out there, taking a risk with someone and then having it blow up in your face? Not fun.

Leliana would have been my first choice to speak with about such matters, but since everything that happened yesterday with Marjolaine, it seemed extremely inappropriate to try and initiate some girl talk. There was Morrigan, I guess, but something told me she wasn’t really the type to lend a sympathetic ear or provide sound romantic advice. And Wynne? Well, you try doing fun touchy feely things with a boy you like and then confiding in your grandmother about it. It’s not an appealing option. I decided to make my way over to Meatball and give him his breakfast.

“You’ll listen to me, won’t you boy? Yes you will cuz you're the best doggy in the world. Yes you are.” I complimented in my baby-talk voice reserved only for Meatball as I knelt down and scratched him behind the ears, which now smelled of lavender thanks to Wynne. “Do you think I rushed things? Maybe I should have stopped before things went too far. I just… really didn’t want to. Like, really.” I sighed as he kept happily gobbling up his kibble. “Why is it that no matter how hard I try to fight them, my emotions always seem to get the better of me? You’d think I would have learned my lesson after what happened back in Highever.” And he just kept on eating. I patted his back and nodded to myself before standing up. “Good talk, buddy.”

I took my sweet time taking my tent down and packing up all of our supplies. I even fed and watered our newly acquired horses and brushed them, just to look like I was staying productive. In reality, I just didn’t want to be the one to rouse Alistair from his tent and tell him we needed to get a move on. I was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. Who else could I send? Wynne wandered off to take her morning bath. Leliana probably still wanted to be left alone. That left Morrigan, Zevran, or Sten. “Sten, things went too far with my virgin love interest last night and now he won’t talk to me. Would you be a dear and rouse him for me?” Oh, that would go over really well. Nope, looked like I was on my own for this one. Great. Just great.

I slowly sauntered over toward Alistair’s tent. There’s no real way of knocking on something without walls so I cleared my throat loudly to announce myself and prayed he would hear it. When that didn’t work, I resorted to just standing outside and calling his name.

“Alistair?” I called. No reply.  
“Alistair?” I called again. Nada.  
“ALISTAIR?” I called again louder. Still nothing. Wonderful.

I knelt down and decided to poke my head into his tent.

“Alistair are you… reading?” I asked, the shock no doubt super apparent in my tone. He looked up at me with wide eyes and closed the book immediately.

“I… um… what are you… don’t you knock?!” He asked, his cheeks red, his demeanor harried and uneasy.  
“I called your name three times! You must really be engrossed in that thing. Which one is it?” Of all the things I could have dreamed up, him sitting in his tent and reading was probably the last.

“It’s nothing. What do you need?”  
“Oh come on! I didn’t even know we had any books with us! Let me see!” I grabbed for the book but he clutched it tightly to his chest.  
“Look, it’s none of your business, alright?!” Hmm… he was acting especially sensitive about this.  
“Okay, fine. Sorry I asked. We’re going to be heading out soon. Just wanted to let you know.”  
“Got it.” Was all he said. And then he just kept staring at me, book still tightly pressed against his chest. “Was there something else you needed?” He asked impatiently.  
“Nope, I can take a hint. I’m going.”

And I removed myself from his sight as quickly as I could. Way to go, Scarlett. The one good thing you have going for you in this whole Maker-forsaken mess and you managed to fuck it up spectacularly. Great job. Gah, maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. Maybe he just needed some time. I could give him that.

I headed back to the spot where I’d initially pitched my tent and decided to read that scroll Ignacio had given me. Given Alistair’s current… preoccupation, I figured I could tie up some loose ends in Denerim before traveling all the way back west to find Genitivi. Apparently someone named Paedan had made himself a rather serious enemy in the Crows… Paedan… Paedan… That name was definitely ringing a bell. Where had I seen it?

Well, if I was going to make good on my deal with Ignacio, I was going to bring the members of my party who I’m fairly certain weren’t going to judge me for it. “Morrigan, Zevran!” I called. As they made their way over, I whistled for Meatball.

“Slight change of plans. I need to head back to Denerim’s town square. There’s something I… forgot.”  
Morrigan chuckled. “Decided to take the Crow up on his offer after all, hmm? But what will your knight in shining armor think?”  
“I just want to do some… investigating. That’s all.”  
“I would follow you into the Fade itself.” Zevran bowed. He was obviously trying to atone for the whole gambling blunder.  
“Been there. Done that. It’s not fun.” I explained dispassionately.

On our way back to the city I told Wynne to tell Alistair I’d be back in a few hours if he asked. When we got there, my first thought was to head back to the tavern to see if I could glean some more information about the mark. That’s when I noticed a poster hanging on a wall near the entrance.

_“Don't believe the lies! Friends of the Grey Wardens assemble. The hidden pearl holds the key to resistance. The griffons will rise again.”_

And I kid you not, Paedan signed his name. Ahhh, so that’s where I’d seen it. Finding him should be a piece of cake.

“Interesting.” I mused aloud. “It’s very obviously a trap.”  
“The Pearl is the name of a brothel here in Denerim. I’d say the man we’re looking for is there.” Zevran explained.

A brothel? Boy oh boy was I growing happier Alistair wasn’t with me each passing minute.

“Wonderful. Let’s go and see what there is to see, I guess. Just… try not to touch anything.” I suggested as I tore the poster off the wall.  
“Ah but you miss the point of a brothel—there, you get to touch anything you want, for the right price of course.” The elf grinned mischievously. Zevran was way too excited about this whole thing.  
“Let’s just… get in and get out.”  
“Also a most viable option for a brothel patron.” Zevran quipped. I just facepalmed.

...

The Pearl was blissfully vacant when we arrived. I guess the early morning hours weren’t the busiest for a business such as this.

“What’s your pleasure, my dear? Women? Men? Both?”  
“Um… I’d like to just sort of… look around. If you’ll permit me.”  
“Sure, sure. Look around all you like. When you see something that strikes your fancy, I’ll be here.”  
“Thank you.” I smiled.

“I would say our man is likely back here.” Zevran suggested as he led the way toward the back rooms.  
“You seem to know this place like the back of your hand, Zevran.” Morrigan observed.  
“Ah, I spent a lot of time in places such as this growing up. If you have seen one brothel, you have seen them all, my raven-haired beauty. Though I would be happy to give you a personal tour…”  
Morrigan just let out a very loud, exaggerated yawn. Ouch.

The first room was empty. The second room, well, when I pressed my ear to the door I was fairly certain the occupants were not who we had in mind. The third door was locked and I didn’t hear anything when I listened closely. Bingo.

I knocked once.

“What’s the password?” A voice beyond the door answered. I took the poster from my satchel and read it again.  
“The griffons will rise again.” I called back. Then voila! The door opened and in we walked.

“Another Grey Warden supporter.” He sounded so very pleased with himself.  
“Not just a supporter, Paedan. That’s a Grey Warden.” A small elf explained. “She’s the one Arl Howe is looking for.”

As soon as I heard his name escape from her mouth it was like I could hear deafening sirens going off in my brain. I no longer saw anyone in that room as a person—they were now nothing more than huge, red bullseyes.

“You’ve got one chance to surrender.” Paedan offered.  
“Aww you’re too kind. I wasn’t even going to give you that option.” I stared at him icily while I unsheathed my sword. He let out a big laugh.  
“Ha! Do you know who you’re dealing with, girl? We’re not common guards. We’re Howe’s elite.”  
“Oooh elite you say? That’ll make killing you even sweeter still. Come at me!” I dared him.

And they attacked and I fought with the fire of a thousand suns. I swung my sword with all my might and with each blow I landed, I saw nothing but my father bleeding and helpless and my mother bent over him. This… this was for him. For both of them.

“Scarlett, move!” Morrigan demanded as I rolled out of the way. By the time I looked back to where I was the Qunari mercenary had already lodged his axe in the floor. Then Morrigan froze him where he stood and I drove my blade home.

I tried to catch my breath. “There. That was the last of them.”  
“You seem to have a nasty habit of almost getting yourself killed.” Morrigan commented. “What was distracting you so?”  
“Howe. He… he was responsible for the deaths of my parents. When I was fighting his men… all I could think about was them.” My eyes fell and much to my surprise, so did Morrigan’s. She uttered not a word.  
“Well, do try to keep your head in one piece. It would be an utter shame to mar that pretty face of yours.” Zevran advised.  
I nodded. “Noted. Let’s get our money and get out of here.”

When we arrived back at camp, Alistair had finally emerged from his tent and everyone was all ready to head out. Then, a stranger just wandered in like he owned the place. I unsheathed my sword immediately and pointed it at his throat.

“And who might you be?” I asked.  
“Whoa, whoa, there’s no need for violence! I… I’ve been looking for you, Warden. You’re a hard woman to find.”  
“A lot of people are looking for me and almost all of them want me dead, so you’re not really helping your case here, mister. A name. Now.” I demanded.  
“Right, right. Where are my manners? The name’s Levi, Levi Dryden. Did… Duncan ever mention me? Levi of the coins? Levi the trader?”

Well, he was apparently on good terms with Duncan at some point so I lowered my sword, but I still wasn’t about to put it away completely. One could never be too cautious these days.

“I regret I didn’t get to spend much time with Duncan before the events that happened at Ostagar. So, no. He never mentioned you.”  
“Really? He never told you of old Levi? We’ve known each other for years. Anyway, here I am blathering on while you have a blight to stop. Don’t want to waste your time.”  
“Well, you obviously came here for a reason so let’s do get to the point.”  
“Well it’s just that… Duncan promised that together we’d look at something important for the Wardens. And for me. But poor Duncan’s… well… no more. A tragedy it is, at that. But I know he would want his work carried on. His pledge fulfilled.”  
“And what pledge might that be?” I inquired.  
“My family… well, our past is a bit… checkered, you see? Nobles look at us with disdain. My great-great-grandmother, Sophia Dryden, was the last Warden Commander of Ferelden, back when the Wardens were known as freeloaders. So King Arland banished the Wardens and took House Dryden’s lands and titles.”  
“I appreciate the history lesson, but how does Duncan factor into all of this?” Now I was getting impatient.  
“Duncan wanted to reclaim the old Grey Warden base, Soldier’s Peak. And if we go there, perhaps we’ll uncover evidence to restore my family’s honor along the way. Nobody’s been to Soldier’s Peak since the Grey Wardens were banished, but I found a way. They say it’s haunted and it’s certainly dangerous but… will you help me?”

A Grey Warden base could prove useful. Duncan told me virtually nothing about how this whole blight thing is supposed to go. How does one go about defeating an Archdemon? What happens afterward? Do all the darkspawn die once you cut their leader down? Were there other side effects to the Joining other than those pesky relentless nightmares? I bet this base had all kinds of information and supplies. The more educated I could make myself about this situation, the better I would feel. Plus, after this whole thing was over, the Grey Wardens would need to rebuild. This could be an invaluable resource for that.

“Haunted and dangerous? How could I possibly turn you down with a glowing endorsement such as that?” I smirked.  
“A thousand blessings upon you, Warden!” he seemed overjoyed. It was enough to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe there was something to this whole helping people thing.

“How far is this base from here?” I asked.  
“Not too far. A few days’ ride. It’s up near Highever.” He explained.

Oh. Not good. If that fight earlier affirmed anything, it was that I so wasn’t ready to go back there. I just shook it off. I would cross that bridge when we came to it.

“Then we’d best get moving, Levi.” I suggested.  
“Yes, ma’am!” and he enthusiastically turned on his heels and led the way.

…

We didn’t get enough coin for everyone to have their own mount, so we had to double up. When the time came to choose our partners, Alistair opted to ride with Wynne. My guess was that he didn’t want to be in such close proximity to me. That… stung a little. Levi sat behind me. Leliana rode with Zevran and Morrigan rode with Sten, much to her delight. Not long into our journey, Sten’s horse caught up with mine.

“How will returning to an abandoned fortress stop the blight?” Sten asked. Ugh, I knew it was coming. Having to explain my every decision to him was getting old.  
“Never underestimate the value of information.” I explained.  
“There are darkspawn to be fought and an Archdemon to kill. What more information do you seek?”  
“Well, Sten, I myself have never slain an old Tevinter god that inhabits the form of a dragon that the Maker himself cast out of the heavens. Have you?”  
“No.” was all he had to say.  
“Well, I’m thinking it won’t be as simple as sliding my sword through its belly. So, the more knowledge we can gain about it, the better off we’ll be. Okay?”  
“Darkspawn die when you stick a sword through them, just like everything else.” He insisted.  
I pulled the reigns of the horse so I was directly blocking his path and met his eyes. “Look, you aren’t a Grey Warden. You haven’t the foggiest idea of what we’re truly up against. You don’t hear its constant whispers in the back of your mind. You don’t dream of this demonic creature who wants nothing more than to completely obliterate this world and everyone in it over and over and over again. It is literally impossible for you to comprehend. So on this one, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

That seemed to shut him up effectively. Point for me. Then Morrigan decided to change the subject.

“So, have you changed your mind, Sten? I dream about you and I, if you must know.”

Oh boy, here we go. Although I must say, Morrigan could sometimes be quite clever. This might have been her way of defusing the tension between Sten and me. And if that was the case, I was super grateful.

“You would, even if I were interested in a small thing like you. The Qunari act is… unpleasant.”  
“Unpleasant? Unpleasant how? Now I am really interested.”

As much as I hated to admit it, he totally had my attention now, too.

“Deadly.” Was all he had to say about it.

That couldn’t be right, could it? Wouldn’t the whole race sort of just… die out? Or maybe the Qunari were like black widow spiders or praying mantises. Fascinating.

“And what if I didn’t mind? I enjoy a little… animation.” Morrigan flirted.  
“You’d be less animated afterward.” He deadpanned.  
“It sounds as if I am arousing your passions already, my dear Sten.”

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

“Parshaara. Why do you pester me?” He groaned.  
Morrigan let out a slight chuckle. “Because ‘tis amusing. That is why.”

I just smirked shook my head. Then Levi murmured, “Is this really what it’s like traveling with a Grey Warden?”  
I looked behind me. “What did you expect?”  
“I don’t know, really. Not this.”  
Now it was my turn to chuckle. “Yeah, I confess. This motley crew isn’t really what I would have anticipated either. But, they’re all I’ve got. And believe it or not, if given the chance, I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

…

Although we were able to cover a lot more ground on horseback, that unyielding sunset returned and the time came to pause our travels for the day. Alistair was uncharacteristically quiet the entire ride. Not a good sign. Maybe I should try and talk to him. Or maybe he would resent me for even making the attempt. Gah, why did everything always have to be so complicated?!

After supper he retreated immediately back to his tent without saying a word to me. Maybe this wasn’t some minor setback. Maybe I’d really messed things up beyond all repair. Damn hormones.

Once everyone had turned in for the night, I mustered up the courage to go and talk to him. If he wanted to end things so be it, but I wanted to at least discuss what happened first. I think we owed that to each other.

I thought about poking my head into his tent again but my courage wasn’t that great. I decided to just sit outside and talk to him through the canvas. I could probably be more objective and candid if I weren’t looking into his eyes anyway. Those hazel eyes… they had a really, really strong effect on me.

“Alistair…” I called hoping he was listening. “I… I just want to say I’m sorry. For the way things went last night. You obviously feel like things went too far and I do have a bad habit of letting my passions get the better of me. We can end things right here and now if you want to.” And as soon as I said the words I felt a lump form in my throat. I tried my best to swallow it but my voice was shaky with tears when I said the next part. I so didn’t want to let him go. “I just want to let you know that I… well… I care about you and I will treasure the time we spent together.”

Not a sound. Silence. Silence that seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

“Okay, well, I’ve… said what I wanted to say. Goodnight then.” I was about to get up and walk away when he opened the flap to his tent.

“Come in, please.” And he held the flap open for me. I crawled inside to sit beside him.  
“You… you’ve got it wrong.” He explained.  
“…Which part?” I asked.  
“Well… sort of all of it.”  
“I’m going to need you to expand on that, Alistair.”  
“I am… well… beyond embarrassed about what happened last night. I’m mortified to be perfectly honest.”

I opened my mouth to begin reassuring him but he stopped me.

“Please just… let me finish. I… I have no idea what I’m doing. You know that. Every time we’re alone I feel as though I’m just a prize idiot fumbling around in the dark, hoping beyond hope I’m doing something right.”  
“Alistair, if you hadn’t told me you didn’t have much experience, I honestly would not have known. You’ve got some serious moves. I’m not kidding. You’re very, very good at umm… well… arousing my desires.”

Ugh, really, Scarlett? That’s what you decided to go with?

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.” He sighed. “You’ve obviously got more experience with all this than me.”  
“What makes you say that?” I inquired.  
“You always seem so sure of yourself, so confident. You deserve better than me. You deserve to be with someone on your level. Someone who knows what he’s doing.”  
“Alistair…” I began. Maker preserve me, I was going to have to tell him. He wouldn’t believe I wanted to be with him no matter what I said unless I told him about my past. I’d spent so much time trying to just put it out of my mind but of course, it had come back to haunt me.

“This is… something I’ve never told anyone.” I looked away from his eyes and started fidgeting. I guess he could sense my apprehension because he took my hands in his—the first time he’d made any attempt to touch me at all since “the incident.”

“Okay, here goes: Back in Highever, there was a knight in my father’s command—Ser Tristan. An older man but very attractive—long blond hair, piercing blue eyes, incredibly muscular…”  
“Yes, yes alright. I get the picture.” He said sourly.  
“Right. Well, his eye fell upon me and I… noticed him as well. Had father known he would have been furious, especially since Ser Tristan… had a wife.” I said the last part barely above a whisper. I felt so ashamed looking back on it now. Alistair didn’t say anything, so I took that as my cue to continue.

“We… had an affair. It was a stupid, selfish thing to do but I was young and naïve and I felt there was something so… romantic about a forbidden romance. All the secret little rendezvous. All the knowing glances and stolen kisses when we thought no one was looking. And then, before too long, it became more than just a game to me. I began to develop feelings for him. Real feelings. You can imagine how that turned out.”  
“…How did it turn out?” he asked.  
“He ended things as quickly as possible, of course. He had zero interest in anything that was more than physical. What was he going to do? Abandon his wife? Run away with me? No. He just… left me. He’d had his fill and I was nothing more than a piece of refuse to be discarded.”  
“He was a complete moron.” Alistair tried to console me. I gave him a weak smile.  
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that, yes, I do have a little more experience than you. And yes, I’ve been with a man who had a lot of experience as well. But I’ve never been in a relationship that was something… beyond physical. What we have… this bond we share… I wouldn’t trade it for all the Ser Tristans in Thedas.” I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet so I settled on a smile.

“…Are you sure? I mean, you could literally have anyone you want. You’re beautiful. You’re beyond intelligent. You’re talented. You’re…”

I felt myself turn bright red.

“…blushing.” He smiled back at me.  
“What can I say? I am extremely susceptible to flattery. But yes, I promise. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Only you.” I squeezed his hands in mine and he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, which I returned with no added zeal. I was still treading very lightly.

“Well, alright then. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” He smirked. “Thank you. For telling me that.” He paused. “Since we’re being so… open… I want to thank you. For your patience with me. I know it can’t be easy for you. I mean… I know most guys would probably leap at the chance to be with you but I just… don’t know if I’m ready for that. It’s a big step. I guess I was just raised not to take this sort of thing lightly, you know?”  
“Alistair, you don’t need to explain. I get it. Really.” I gave him my most reassuring smile. “So, now that you know all my secrets… are you going to tell me what you were reading?”

“I don’t know all your secrets, actually. Where did you disappear to this morning?”

Uh oh. Damnit! It was like taking two steps forward and one step back with this man, I swear it!

“I… took care of some business.”  
“For the Crow.” I didn’t sense any anger… more like… disappointment. Which I daresay is way worse.  
“I wasn’t going to do anything more than look into things at first. And then I found out the mark was one of Howe’s elite soldiers. And then… well, all bets were off.”  
“You killed them all?” he asked.  
I nodded. “They were luring Grey Warden sympathizers to a back room of a brothel and either arresting them or killing them. Even if they weren’t Howe’s men, I couldn’t let that stand. The fact that they were was just an added bonus.”  
“Oh well, when you put it that way, I’m rather sorry I missed it.” He smiled and moved behind me so he could cradle me between his legs and wrap me in his arms. I leaned my back against his stomach and rested my arms on top of his. His embrace was always so warm and comforting. I felt as though I could just melt into him and drift off into oblivion.

“You mean… you’re not mad?” I asked as I looked up to meet his eyes.  
“No. No, I’m not. It sounds like they got what was coming to them.”

Well that went way better than I thought it would. Phew.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” he inquired.  
“Nope, that’s everything. Sooo…”

He let out a huge sigh and rummaged under his bedroll to present the book.

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t—

I lost the battle. I erupted into a fit of laughter. It was some trashy romance novel with a bright pink cover and a super corny illustration of a man and a woman in a most intimate embrace.

“Yep, laugh it up, laugh it up. I can take it.”  
“Aww I’m sorry. I just… I never would have expected—” and I erupted into giggles once again.  
“I… picked it up awhile ago from one of the merchants we passed. I thought maybe I could learn a thing or two. I don’t know.”  
I nodded as my laughter quelled. “Looking to expand your knowledge, eh? You’re truly a man after my own heart.” I grinned. “Well, like I said, you’ve definitely got a few surprises up your sleeve. If that is due in any way to you reading this, more power to you.”

Then I paused and steered the conversation in a more serious direction. If I really had done something wrong last night, I wanted to know my boundaries.

“But seriously, if I took things too far last night, please tell me. If I learned anything from that whole Tristan thing, it’s that I can get carried away very, very easily.”

A playful grin played across his lips. “Last night was… amazing. I absolutely loved getting carried away with you.” And then the smile ran away from his face. “And then, of course, in typical Alistair fashion, I messed the whole thing up.”  
“Alistair, you didn’t mess anything up. I promise. I actually sort of took the whole thing as a compliment.” I confessed.  
“…You did?”  
I gave him a slow nod. “I love that I somehow managed to turn you on so much that you just… lost control. It was very, very sexy.”  
“… Really? ” he beamed as I could sense the confidence pouring back into his being.   
I nodded in earnest. “So, please don’t be embarrassed. I would not take back a single thing about last night. I loved every minute. Even the end. Especially the end.” I smiled back as he leaned down to me for another kiss.  
“Good to know.”


	21. You Are Home to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett grapples with memories of home as she fights her way through Warden's Peak, determined to get Levi some answers and find some of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks! Enjoy!

Nothing especially eventful happened on the journey to Soldier’s Peak. The closer we got, the harder I had to fight the sadness welling up inside of me as I came across the familiar hallmarks of home—the emerald shades of the foliage peeking out from beneath the freshly fallen snow, the fresh, salty smell of the grey sea. With each step I took I felt my burden grow heavier. No matter how hard I tried to draw my attention elsewhere, my thoughts inevitably went back to the sounds of the walls crashing down around me that fateful night; the oppressive heat from the fires that engulfed everything in their path; the screams of innocents as they were butchered; the look of devastation and discernment in my parents’ eyes as I was carried farther and farther away from them. Say what you will about the Blight. For me, it was one heck of a distraction. But as we grew closer and closer to Highever, even the insurmountable task laid before me was no longer enough to quell my heartache. The fortress was situated just outside the border of our lands. I tried not to look too far off in the distance, but I do believe I spied some tattered banners with a faded Cousland sigil miserably undulating in the harsh winds. It took all my strength not to break down right then and there. 

I figured my best course of action was to keep myself as separate from everyone as I possibly could. Even Alistair. Especially Alistair. As a leader I had to be strong and around him, I seemed to lose my resolve all too easily. And this tactic worked twofold. Although I’m fairly sure I managed to undo some of the damage that night at the lake caused, the last thing I wanted was to find myself getting carried away around him. Again. Minimizing our alone time seemed like a logical way to go about doing that. I didn’t want to rush him and I didn’t want to make him doubt himself. My little confession about being with a man of experience probably intimidated him enough as it was. I so didn’t want to make things worse. If that meant limiting the touchy feely stuff to hand-holding, hugs, and the occasional peck on the lips, so be it. 

When we managed to actually arrive at the fortress, it was freezing. With a capital BRRRRRR. We’d traveled maybe a hundred miles in the last few days, but the change in the weather was incredibly drastic. This whole Blight thing really seemed to be messing with Mother Nature. Luckily we had the foresight to grab some supplies for just such an occasion back in Denerim. Metal armor unfortunately doesn’t really offer much in the way of warmth; neither did the leather I wore beneath it. So, I opted for a fur-lined cloak and some gloves to match. They sort of helped. Ish. 

“And, here we are—Soldier’s Peak. Maker’s breath, look at the size of her! What a fortress!” Levi observed. “I told you the map would get us through the tunnels.”  
“Oh admit it. You were lost a couple of times.” I teased. I tried my best to put on a happy face and pretend everything was alright even though my heart was bleeding. The absolute last thing I needed was for someone to sense my despair and ask me what was wrong. I had to act as if nothing had changed; as if I were the same old Scarlett.  
“No… the map was just… soggy. That’s all.”  
“Riiiiiight. Okay, coming with us, then? Or will you stay here and keep the horses company?”  
“I’ll follow you. From a distance. This place has the stench of death. I expect there’s trouble up ahead.”  
“Oh good. Trouble is my middle name.” I smirked.  
“You told me it was Amaryllis! I feel so misled.” Alistair joked.  
“Oh, I just recently changed it. Figured this new one was more fitting, considering.”  
“Hmm... you do have a certain proclivity for getting into mischief, I suppose.”  
“Funny… I was usually so well-behaved before I met you.” I gave him a quick wink and a half smile.  
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” He grinned back. “So, Soldier’s Peak, eh? Looks like it’s seen better days. Better centuries, more like.”  
“Once the Wardens flourished, their ranks full, their caliber certain. Now they even accept people like you, Alistair.” Ouch, Morrigan. Ouch.  
“Hey!” Alistair whined. I had to admit, it made me the slightest bit happy to have them back to hurling zingers at one another—although it was usually Morrigan who did most of the hurling. I was just happy things seemed to be getting back to normal. Well, as normal as could be expected with those two. 

And then the aforementioned trouble found us. Those frozen skeletons I’d come to know and love from our return to Ostagar attacked, in addition to some frozen animated corpses—you know, just to keep things interesting. And then the visions started. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. But we were able to see glimpses of events past as though they were playing out right before our very eyes. In the first, I saw King Arland’s knights planning to starve the Wardens out of the keep. 

“I’m not going mad, am I? You saw it too? How is this even possible?” Levi asked. I didn’t have any answers for him. Then Wynne chimed in. 

“The veil is thin here. It was the same at the Circle Tower.”  
“The veil?” Levi asked.  
“That’s what separates our world from the Fade and demons.” She explained.  
“Demons?! Thank Andraste you came, Warden.” Apparently Levi was none too fond of demons. They weren’t really my favorite either, so this should prove to be an especially fun undertaking. 

“Alright, Wynne, Sten, Zev, please stay out here in case there are more of those… things. The last thing we need is an ambush while we’re seeing what there is to see in there.” 

“Understood.” Was all Zev offered, which was incredibly out of character for him.  
“That’s it? No flirtations or brazen come-ons?” I inquired.  
“What can I say? I was not about to argue when afforded an opportunity to watch your backside as you climb the stairs.”  
I nodded. “Ah, suddenly it all makes sense.”

Upon entering the main hall, another vision manifested. We saw Levi’s granny Sophia, who was apparently crazy good at giving rallying speeches, and a mage named Avernus. Hmm… the plot thickens. 

As we fought our way from room to room, I tried my best to keep my eyes peeled for anything that might give me added insight into what it really meant to be a Grey Warden—information on the Blight, the Archdemon, the Joining, anything. No such luck. The one promising book I stumbled upon was burned beyond all recognition. Figures. 

When we went upstairs another vision presented itself. We saw Sophia and Avernus again, only this time it was during a great battle. Sophia told Avernus that the soldiers needed his help, and then he began casting a spell—a spell that summoned demons. Avernus was, apparently, laboring under the delusion that he could control said demons and use them against the invading soldiers. Stupid, stupid man. 

Before we could even really process what we’d just seen, we were attacked by more demons and some dead Wardens. It felt so… strange to kill my own kind. I know I had never met those men in life and I know I wasn’t all that keen on becoming a Warden in the first place, but by now it had become a huge part of who I am. I now took pride in myself and my cause. Although it was only Alistair and myself left, I still felt a kinship toward anyone else who knew what it meant to be a Grey Warden; even those who had died hundreds of years ago. 

“The Wardens summoned demons. And my grandmother… she knew…” I saw the hope in Levi’s eyes dim as the words left his mouth. The likelihood of us finding something to clear his family name now was pretty slim. 

“The Wardens are a pragmatic bunch. They know how to do one thing and one thing only: win. And they do that by any means necessary.” Probably not the most comforting sentiment, but it was the best I could offer. 

“I thought my family was better than that. Maybe there’s more to this. Answers may lay up ahead.” 

And so we pressed on, and what we found was… beyond disturbing. Sophia Dryden’s decaying body was currently inhabited by a demon. And, in true demon fashion, it wanted to strike a deal. It may have often been a case of the blind leading the blind when it came to a lot of the situations we’d faced, but one thing I knew for sure: Never, ever make deals with demons. It always ends badly. 

“Levi, I’m afraid your great-great-grandmother is possessed.” I managed to recall that not many people deal with demons on as regular basis as I did. I just wanted to explain this little detail in case Levi resented me for doing what had to be done. 

“That, or she’s really let herself go. My great-great-grandmother is dead. I don’t know what that is.” Good. Glad he was seeing reason. 

We attacked Sophia and her Warden skeleton minions. They posed little trouble, and as an added bonus, I found Sophia’s—that is, the real Sophia’s—old journal on a desk. I grabbed it and placed it in my satchel before we moved on. Perhaps some of the answers I was seeking lay within. 

The next set of stairs took us to a bridge where even more skeletons attacked us as we fought to avoid their arrows buried between the seemingly endless falling snow. 

Morrigan created a wall of fire and Leliana proceeded to nail each one with an arrow. One by one they fell. Alistair and I didn’t even have to do anything but stay out of the way. 

“Nice teamwork, ladies.” I praised.  
“I confess I typically prefer to work alone, but I suppose you are not completely inept.” Morrigan addressed Leliana.  
“Gee, Morrigan. Coming from you, I suppose there is no higher compliment.” Leliana answered.  
“You suppose correctly.” Was all Morrigan said in return.  
“Group hug?” Alistair smirked. Leliana, Morrigan, and I just glared at him. “Okay, not ready for that yet. Got it.” 

We entered the tower and in the first room I found some research notes from that mage from the visions—Avernus. I began to read them immediately. A lot of really bad things had gone down in this place, and Avernus seemed to be at the head of all of them. 

He was experimenting on people. Torturing them for as long as he could until they succumbed to death. All in the name of finding a cure for the Calling. Alistair had explained that to me awhile back—the inevitable time in a Warden’s life when the humming of the darkspawn grows too great to be ignored and we meet our end in the Deep Roads, taking as many darkspawn with us as possible before we go. Although there is honor in such a death, I had to admit I was intrigued by the notion of overcoming it. It was comforting to think my family would be there on the other side waiting for me to join them, but with each passing day, I was growing more and more sure of the fact that this notion was just that—a comfort. Nothing more. They were gone and I was likely never going to be by their side again. This life is likely all we get. If there is a way to somehow prolong it, well, that is something worth exploring. 

I placed the notes in my pack beside Sophia’s journal. Although what he had to do to summon those demons was utterly despicable, he was a man of both magic and science—a powerful combination. This could be of great use to us. 

When we entered the next room, my jaw immediately hit the floor. The man from the visions was standing before us—something I thought to be completely impossible. Alistair had mentioned we get maybe 30 years before submitting to the Calling, if we’re lucky. This man, if that is indeed what he was, had to be hundreds of years old. My mind was blown. I needed answers and I needed them fast. 

“I hear you. Don’t disrupt my concentration.” He called to us. “Even now the demons seek to replenish their numbers. Are you to thank for this temporary imbalance?”  
“Avernus, right? How in the Maker’s name are you still alive?” I asked.  
“Only just. I have only a short time left.”  
“But… how have you survived this many years?”  
“The chantry foolishly forbids blood magic—but there are many so secrets to uncover. As my body decayed, I found ways to extend it. But that can only go so far.”

He went on to tell us more about the rebellion, most of which was already revealed in the visions. But then he mentioned something that really caught my attention.  
“Did you just say Teyrn Cousland?”  
“Yes. He was to aid us in the fight against that tyrant Arland but he chose to betray us.”  
“That’s… he was my family.” I confessed.  
Avernus let out a dry laugh. “You lost many family members that day. I saw the head of Teyrn Cousland on a table, with an apple in his mouth. Arland took it upon himself to butcher as many Couslands as he saw fit to ensure the rest would stay in line.” 

I closed my eyes and held them tightly as I balled my hands into fists and dug my nails into my palms. Don’t do it, Scarlett. Don’t let the sorrow win. It was just… with my thoughts already turned to my family and the terrible way I lost them, the mention of even more of my kin being slaughtered at the hands of a tyrant, well, it did nothing to help the situation. Don’t you cry, Scarlett. Don’t let a single tear fall. Channel it into something you can use. Get angry. 

“So, in summation, you used blood magic to summon demons to aid in your rebellion. You actually thought they would remain under your control.” I made no attempt to mask the vitriol in my voice. 

“For months I prepared the summoning circles; researched the darkest depths of the fade. That moment was a triumph of demonic lore. Dozens of demons called by my hand.” 

He was positively beaming. He was actually proud of what he’d done. It was disgusting. 

“But with so many variables, I suppose calculation errors were… inevitable. I was so close.”  
“What you did was monstrous, Avernus. You’re to blame for all of this. Some things you just don’t do, no matter the intention.” I scolded. 

A look of remorse befell his face and despite my best efforts, I felt my anger begin to fade. I know, I was just as shocked as you are. 

“From a Warden, that means something. So tired. So old. Let me undo my greatest of mistakes. Let me cleanse this place. Then… then I will accept whatever justice you feel I merit.” 

He seemed genuine in his request, and I had no idea how to repair the veil myself, so Avernus was really our only option if we hoped to reclaim this place. 

“I accept your offer. But before we go, Levi here was hoping to get some… clarification on a few things.”  
“Mister Mage… uh… ser, my family name has been worth less than dirt for over a century. Do you have any proof that Sophia was a hero?” Despite everything we’d seen and discovered, he was still holding out hope. Poor bloke. 

“Your great-great-grandmother was the best of us. Brave, fiery, charismatic. Utterly devoted to the fight. But proof? There is none to be had.” 

Levi’s face fell. Through all these goings on with demons and corpses and possessed grandmothers and seemingly immortal mages I had been reasonably distracted from my own heartbreak. When I saw the look in Levi’s eyes, my heart broke all over again. 

“I had hoped... But thank you, Warden.” And despite this whole venture proving to be fruitless, his thanks were sincere. That Levi, he was a good egg. 

We followed Avernus to the Great Hall so he could repair the damage he’d caused so long ago. While the old mage worked to undo the summoning circles he’d created, we had to fight the waves of demons and spirits that kept coming through. Rage demons. Shades. Ash wraiths. And my personal favorite, a desire demon to top it all off. Yeah, it had gotten to the point where I’d committed all their classifications to memory. So ridiculous. 

While Levi hid in the corner and Avernus was busy casting spells, Alistair, Morrigan, Leliana, and I fought them off. Although I did want to rid the keep of these foul creatures, I just didn’t have that spark I usually felt in the heat of battle. Instead I felt… tired. I felt homesick. I still managed to hold my own, but the heaviness that was weighing down my heart was also weighing down my sword. Alistair seemed to take notice and fought beside me every step of the way. I think he’s a keeper. 

Once the demons and spirits were destroyed and the veil was repaired, I was left with the one-million-sovereign question: What in the Maker’s name was I going to do with Avernus? 

“It’s over.” Avernus declared. “The veil is strong now. Or stronger, at least. I said I’d submit to judgment and so I shall. Can I be left to experiment in peace?”  
“These… experiments of yours. Tell me what you’ve found.” Yes, truly, it was always better to find out as many details as possible before condemning someone to death. Sound logic, right? 

“The darkspawn’s taint has power. The Wardens use it merely to sense when darkspawn are near. A triviality. My research has discovered so much more—hinted at even greater heights. This knowledge could grant all Wardens even more power.”  
“Are you being deliberately vague here?” I asked.  
“You’ve already read some of my research. Given time and the proper materials, I could learn so much more. So, what say you?”  
“Your crimes are heinous.” I began. And with some difficulty, Avernus got on bended knee and bowed his head, as though he were waiting for my sword to cast that fatal blow. But this man was a fountainhead of knowledge and untapped potential. He was no good to anyone dead. “You must atone. Research ways to help the Wardens. ETHICALLY.” I emphasized.  
He nodded. “With what time I have left, I will do this. It may take months or years for my research to reach fruition. When it does, I will send for you. Thank you for this, Warden.” And with that, he left to make his way back to the tower. 

“You’ve done it, Warden. Soldier’s Peak is safe again. That old geezer Avernus deserves the gallows if you ask me, but… if he does the proper research—without the sacrifices and the blood magic and all—maybe he’ll turn up something good.” Levi seemed legitimately happy, despite our failure to find what he was looking for. 

“I’m… I’m sorry there was no proof to redeem your family, Levi.” I said sincerely.  
“The past won’t offer redemption.” Alistair explained before putting his hand on my shoulder. “Try the future instead.” 

I reached up and held his hand. He could be so wise sometimes. Maybe I wasn’t as good of an actor as I thought. Maybe he could sense I was thinking of home, of my family. Or maybe I was reading too much into things. I was really good at that. 

“You’re right. For so long I was focused on the past. On answers. But I think I would have been better off had I stayed at home. Enough of that, though. I find myself at a loss. You’ve got a whole fortress now. I suppose I should start plying my trade again. I was thinking my family and I might set up shop here. And you, of course, will receive a considerable discount.” Levi offered. 

I reached out to shake his hand. “It’s a deal. I’m glad to have met you, Levi Dryden.”  
He shook my hand. “And I you, Warden. And I you.”  
“Looks like we’re done here. A demonic invasion thwarted, a Warden base safely rescued. We do good work.” Alistair declared. I gave him a soft smile.  
“Yep, not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I suppose we can all sleep here tonight.”  
“No interest in going head-to-head with your tent this evening?” Alistair teased.  
“Ugh. I would rather fight a thousand more demons than that blasted thing.” I groaned. “Let’s get the others and see if we can convince Wynne to scare up some dinner. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, Levi.” I offered.  
“Thank you kindly, but after all I just saw, I don’t think I’ll have much of an appetite.”  
I nodded. “I understand. I suppose this is all sort of old hat to me by now.”  
“You have such an odd way of speaking sometimes.” Leliana observed.  
I let out a big sigh. “So I keep hearing.”

…

After supper I went back to see Avernus and requested all of his notes—every scrap of paper he had, every scribble. Then I retired to one of the many rooms with a fireplace, lit it, and started to dig in. I still had a lot of questions and I knew there were answers to be found somewhere within this mess. And to be perfectly honest, I welcomed the distraction. Although it had been a rather eventful day, I couldn’t shake the ever-present thoughts of what and whom I’d lost. Of all I’d left behind. I sat down at the desk and laid all the papers and journals out, readied my quill, and donned my reading glasses—yes, those are a thing. I hadn’t had much reason to pull them out before now. 

I soon became engrossed by the visceral, gory descriptions of the experiments and what Avernus hoped to gain. So much pain. So much suffering. I once read that one should consider not what one was about to kill, but rather what one was allowing to let live. Had I made the wrong decision? Should I have punished this past evil rather than hold out hope for eventual good? 

Then a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. 

“Come in.” I called.  
“Hard at work, I see.” Alistair smirked. “Are you… wearing spectacles?”  
Crap. I’d forgotten I had them on. “…Guilty.” I reached up to quickly remove them.  
“No, I… I like them.” Alistair admitted shyly as he placed them back on my face. I gave him a slight smile.  
“Something on your mind?” I asked.  
“Well, I was hoping we could talk. I um… I’ve noticed you’ve been rather… distant these last few days. Is everything alright?”  
“I’m fine. My mind has just been… preoccupied lately.” I gave him my best smile, but I could tell he wasn’t buying it.  
“With what?” he asked gently as he sat on my desk and took my hands in his.  
“It’s not important. Really.” I tried for the smile again but I could feel it fading around the edges. C’mon, Scarlett. That wasn’t going to convince anyone.  
“Ever the strong one.” He got off the desk and knelt before me and looked up into my eyes, his hands never leaving mine. “Scarlett, I’m here for you. You don’t need to be strong for me.” I just looked down into my lap, unable to meet his eyes. He placed two fingers under my chin and forced me to look at him. “Even saviors need rescuing, remember?” 

After a rather lengthy pause, I mustered up the courage to say something. 

“I just… we’re so close to home, Alistair. It’s all around me. Every sight, every smell, every sound. All of it is just screaming my name and reminding me of what I left behind when Duncan took me away. Everywhere I turn I see their haunted faces. I hear their terrified cries. I—”

And then I lost it. The floodgates of emotion opened and I began to weep. Tears streamed down my face and my shoulders shook and I cried so hard I could barely breathe. He pulled me out of my chair and held me tight in his arms. 

“I just miss them so much.” I managed to get out between sobs. He stroked my hair and rocked me gently as we sat on the floor in front of the fire.  
“I know, Scarlett. I know. It’s okay.” 

I hugged him so tightly, as if he were my only lifeline in a sea of despair. I buried my face between his shoulder and his neck and just slowly breathed in the musky scent of him over and over again. And although he didn’t smell anything like Highever, he still smelled like… home. Somehow, that made all the difference.


	22. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly NSFW! 
> 
> After Scarlett regains composure, Alistair is resolved to show her just how seriously he's taken her advice on putting his own needs first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos rock my world!

After my utterly embarrassing but apparently entirely necessary emotional outpouring, I raised my head off of Alistair’s shirt only to see my tears and Maker knows what else had made a complete mess of it. Ugh, what a state I was in. For a minute there I completely forgot where I was. I didn’t even know where my glasses went. I must have thrown them off when I lost my mind and began weeping uncontrollably. Spectacular.

“I’m so, so sorry. Profoundly sorry.” I blinked quickly in an attempt to regain my composure and get the lingering tears to fall while wiping my nose on my sleeve. I must have looked super dignified; the very picture of poise and refinement. NOT. 

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He smiled at me in all sincerity as he brushed the remaining tears out of my eyes with his thumbs. “Do you… feel a little better?”

I nodded slowly. See, I had this rather terrible habit of suppressing and suppressing and suppressing some more until inevitably the emotional dam breaks and everything comes flooding out of me in inexorable torrents. Probably not the most healthy way to deal with things, but it’s the only way I know how. Alistair’s presence really did comfort me and after giving all my grief and regret and sadness some sort of outlet, I was feeling a whole lot better about life in general. Although, I was by no means back to my usual happy and carefree self. …What? Okay, my usual less miserable and mildly sardonic self. Happy? 

“A little better, yes. But Maker would I kill for a glass of wine. Or six.”  
He let out a slight chuckle. “Unfortunately I don’t think there’s any to be had. You’ll have to deal with my company completely sober, I’m afraid.”  
“Well, as luck would have it, you happen to be my favorite person to be around.” I smiled.  
“Wow, even without alcohol? That’s quite the compliment.” He smirked at me. 

I leaned in to lay my head on his chest and he resumed stroking my hair. “Thank you. For being here for me. It means more to me than you can imagine.”  
He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my head. “I’ll always be here. As long as you’ll have me.” He vowed softly. 

That made me smile but I never lifted my heavy head off his chest. Listening to the sound of his heartbeat and the crackling of the fire was so calming. I was about five minutes from falling asleep on him. 

“Scarlett?”  
“Hmm?” I responded softly, still not bothering to lift my head as I was barely clinging to consciousness.  
“When I first came in here… there was something else I wanted to say.”  
“Oh?” I inquired, my voice thick with drowsiness.  
“Yeah. I… don’t think I ever thanked you. For bringing me to see my sister. I appreciate it. And I’ve been thinking…”  
“Uh oh.” I sneered and playfully pinched his tummy.  
“Oh ho ho ho, funny, I’m sure. Just listen for a minute.” 

Uh oh indeed. This sounded serious. I sat up to meet his eyes. So much for sleep.

“Okay, sorry. I’m all ears.”  
“Back when we left Goldanna’s, you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do. I’m… beginning to think you were right. I need to stop letting everyone else make my decisions for me. I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I’m never going to be happy.”  
“Don’t let me influence you, Alistair. I didn’t mean to be preachy. That’s what we have Wynne for.” I smirked.  
“No, what you said made sense. You were right. I should be looking out for myself more. Or… did I misunderstand you?”  
“No, that’s pretty much the gist of it… but I mean, it wasn’t a direct order or anything. You don’t have to listen to me.”  
“I know I don’t have to do it. I want to.” The timbre of his voice sounded rather forceful as he started crawling closer toward me, and suddenly I was on my back beneath him, his weight supported by his arms as he hovered above me. How did that happen? 

“I should have done this a long time ago.” He admitted before he leaned down to kiss me with all the force he could muster. WHOA! Where was this coming from?! My eyes were wide with surprise at first, but before long I closed them and submitted to the power of his kiss. 

“Alistair…” I whispered as the kiss broke. “Wha… what are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.

He reached behind him and quickly removed his shirt. “I’m thinking about what I want. And I want you.” 

He moved so that he was back on top of me and before he leaned down to kiss me again, I pushed back against his chest to stop him. Maker, I’d wanted to hear those words from him for so long, but this… it just wasn’t right. I was an emotional wreck and no doubt looked the part. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trying to overcompensate for the fact that I’d been with someone else before. Well, that mixed with my being… physically removed… from him for the past few days. I wanted to be with him more than anything but at the right time, under the right circumstances. Tonight was not the night. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, the worry painfully apparent on his face. “Don’t you… want me?” 

Oh Maker did I want him. In an effort to reassure him, I ran my hand down from the top of his chest to his lower stomach, feeling every ripple and pulse of muscle in between. It was enough to make me physically ache for him. Ugh. Okay, admittedly not the brightest idea I’ve ever had. 

“Oh, I want you. Trust me.”  
“Oh, I’m such an idiot.” He facepalmed. “You’re still upset, aren’t you? Gah. Congratulations, Alistair. You’ve handled yet another would-be romantic encounter with your usual deft brilliance. I am such a complete—”  
“No, Alistair.” I interrupted. “It’s… it’s not that.”  
“…Then why so distant?” he asked.  
“I just… is this really what you want? You told me just a few days ago that you didn’t think you were ready yet.”  
“Well, I’ve just been feeling… I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing.”  
“What is it?” I asked. 

He leaned back on his haunches and I sat up to follow him. 

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.” He confessed.  
“I’ve been avoiding just about everyone, Alistair. It’s nothing personal.”  
“But it feels personal. Even though you’ve still been kissing me goodnight and holding my hand and all that, it just… hasn’t felt like the real you. It’s felt like an imposter. Like you’ve just been going through the motions or something.” 

Damnit. Aren’t men supposed to suck at being observant? 

“So, that’s why you’re doing this? Because you’ve felt neglected?” I asked as gently as I could manage.  
“I thought that if I took charge for once… I don’t know. I’d get you back. The real you.”

His face looked so sad. I ran the back of my hand down his cheek. How did I manage to keep hurting him over and over again? Why could I never do anything right? Alright, time to fess up. 

“Okay, you caught me. I have been… holding back. Of late.”  
“Why? Because I told you I wasn’t ready?”  
“Well, partially. But this isn’t some sort of punishment. I just…”  
“I can be ready if you need me to be. You’ve been beyond patient.”  
“No, Alistair, please don’t rush on my account. It’s just that—”  
“Are you changing your mind about us?” He cut me off.  
“Alis—” I tried to interject but he just kept on going.  
“Because I’d rather you just tell me than keep dragging it out.”  
“Alist—” I tried again.  
“Ugh.” He groaned in frustration and hid his head in his hands. “Of course this would happen. I knew one day you’d wake up and realize I’m not—”  
“ALISTAIR!” I interrupted loudly. Third time’s a charm. “It’s not that either. I promise.” I grabbed his hands in mine and found his eyes. “It’s because… I’m scared of losing you.” I admitted softly. 

He pondered my words for a moment, his brow arched in befuddlement.

“So, to clarify, you’ve been keeping your distance because you… don’t want me to go away? That’s your logic?”  
I let out a sigh. “I just… don’t entirely trust myself around you. When we’re alone I get so wrapped up in you—your smell, the feel of your skin, the look in your eyes—I… go crazy. I don’t know how to stop it. You have this undeniable and extremely intense effect on me and I can’t seem to control the way I react. And I don’t want my lack of restraint to scare you off.”  
“…Really? That’s why you’ve been… Wow that’s… incredibly flattering.” He smiled brightly. “I very much feel the same way around you. But that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Being able to get lost in one another?”

I felt a slow smile form across my lips. “Yes, that part is a lot of fun.” 

Then I paused to gather my thoughts, which reverted back to the more serious side of things. 

“I just don’t want a repeat of what happened after that night at the lake. I don’t want you to withdraw from me like that again. When I thought I’d lost you I… well, it wasn’t a good feeling. I figured me toning things down a bit was the best way to prevent that from happening again.” 

He let out a sigh and brushed his hair back with his fingers—a nervous gesture I’d come to absolutely adore. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I was better at this sort of thing. I probably should have handled that whole situation differently…” he paused. “Especially since I really, really enjoyed it.”  
“Which part?” I asked.  
“Our time together at the lake. Playing around and having fun with you. Being so close to you. Getting lost in you.” He smiled.  
“I really enjoyed it, too.” I smiled back. “Probably too much. Hence my conflict.” The smile turned to a frown as I explained my predicament.  
“Well, far be it from me to point out the obvious here but, you did, in fact, just stop me.” 

…He had a point. 

“Huh… I… I guess I did.” I confirmed with bewilderment.  
“Regardless, I did mean what I said. About going after what I want.” 

Then I saw that hungry look return to his eyes. The boy was extra determined this evening and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really, really like it. But I still felt like he was rushing on my account, and I simply would not stand for that. 

“But—” I began but he placed his finger over my lips to stop my protest in its tracks. 

“So, why don’t you let me…” He leaned in and started brushing his lips across my collarbone. I bit my lip as I heard a soft moan escape from my mouth. “…decide how far is too far.” 

He placed one hand behind my head and slowly pushed me back down with the other. With his face less than an inch from mine, he whispered, “That is, unless you want to stop me first.” And I began feeling his hands move to untie my shirt. Okay, I was only human. No way did I have the will or desire to stop him. His newfound boldness was incredibly sexy. Maybe I should get preachy more often. 

I raised my head to close the gap between our lips and kissed him with all the vigor and passion I’d gone without over the past several days. I heard him let out a slow moan into my mouth. 

“Mmm…” he purred. “There you are. I missed you.” He smiled against my lips as he finished undoing my blouse. I was breathing hard as I felt my bare chest rise and fall against his. He raised himself up on his arms and looked down at me. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered. 

I felt that familiar blush invade my cheeks and chest. “…And pink.” He grinned before he leaned down to kiss my breast. I let out a sharp gasp as I felt the warmth of his mouth envelop my hard nipple and despite my every effort not to, my hips started rocking again. And his began doing the same. Déjà vu. 

He kept moving his tongue around my pink bud in slow, deliberate circles before switching to the other breast and doing the same thing. So slow. So agonizingly slow. I threw my head back and grabbed for something to hold on to, something to help me regain control. There was nothing to be found but floor so I dug my nails into his back. He groaned against my skin and bit me slightly, but rather than staving me off, digging into his flesh and feeling his teeth graze me only turned me on more. Oh, this was not good. 

“Alistair…” I whispered, half out of pleasure, half out of caution.  
“I know,” he whispered back. Then I felt him beginning to slip his fingers into the waistline of my pants. Maker preserve me! 

Then, right on cue, Meatball stormed into the room causing all of Avernus’s notes to go flying in every direction. He was barking his head off. Not his usual happy bark, either. At first I thought he could have just been feeling protective but he knew Alistair. I don’t think he’d react that way. This was something else. Something was wrong. 

Alistair jumped off me immediately as I sat up and closed my blouse.

“What is it, buddy?” I asked.  
He gently tugged on the bottom of my shirt. Then did the same to Alistair’s, once he’d put it back on. 

“You want us to follow you?” Alistair asked. We got a short bark, which I supposed was affirmation enough. We both got to our feet and followed him to a stairwell where we saw Wynne, collapsed and unconscious. 

Alistair and I ran to her side as quickly as we could. 

“Wynne? WYNNE?!” I shouted trying to elicit some kind of response as I felt around for her pulse. I didn’t feel anything.  
“Is she…” Alistair asked softly.  
“No. No, I won’t accept that. WYNNE!” I started to shake her. I was so frantic. I’d lost too much already. I wasn’t going to lose her, too.  
“Scarlett, don’t.” Alistair wrapped me in his arms as I felt myself beginning to cry. Again. Then I heard a soft moan come from Wynne’s seemingly lifeless body. Oh, thank the Maker! 

“Wynne!” I cried as I gently lifted her head, a little bit of blood seeping from her right brow.  
“Yes, child. I’m here. I’m alright.”  
“What happened?!” I demanded to know.  
“Oh, I just took a little tumble down the stairs. I guess these old legs aren’t what they used to be.”  
“It seemed like something more than that, Wynne. I couldn’t feel your heartbeat.”  
“I’m fine, Scarlett. Really. I’ve taken worse falls than this before. But your concern is very sweet.” She gave my hand a light squeeze.  
“You gave us a scare, Wynne. Of all the mages I’ve met, I can honestly say you’re the first one I’ve really liked.” Alistair smiled down at her.  
“Why thank you, Alistair. I’m quite touched.” She smiled softly back. “Now, be a dear and help me up, would you?”  
“Are you sure that’s wise?” I asked. “Something could be broken.”  
“Nothing is hurt except my pride, Scarlett. I’m just sorry to have interrupted what was no doubt an… exciting evening.” Wynne said playfully.  
“I was… we were… studying.” Ugh. So lame.  
“Ah, of course. That must be why his shirt is inside out and your hair is all disheveled. ‘Studying’ can be so… strenuous.” She grinned. Alistair and I both turned super red. Busted. 

Alistair lifted Wynne to her feet and helped her to her room.

“If you need anything else, I’m right across the hall.” He offered. I couldn’t help but smile. He’s such a good man.  
“Goodnight, you two. And thank you.”  
“Goodnight.” We said in unison as he closed the door behind him. 

“You and I should probably get some rest as well.” I suggested.  
“Sorry you didn’t get much actual studying done.” He grinned.  
“Liar. You’re not sorry at all.” I smirked. “But I suppose I did learn a thing or two about anatomy.”  
He let out a hearty laugh. “As did I.”  
“It’s okay. I’ll bring the notes with us. We have quite a journey ahead of us still before we reach Haven. I’ll have lots of time to kill.”  
“I can’t promise I won’t try and distract you again.” He warned as he leaned in for a kiss.  
“Oh, don’t you even start.” I pushed on his chest again.  
“See? You’re becoming really good at stopping me.” He quipped. I just shook my head kissed his cheek.  
“Goodnight, Alistair.”  
“Goodnight, my lady.” 

…

The next morning we were on the road again, despite my better judgment. I asked Wynne if she was up for it so soon but she insisted she was “fit as a fiddle.” I begged her to rest for the day instead but as it turns out, she’s just as stubborn as I am. It was infuriating. How anyone could put up with such behavior is beyond me. Note to self: The next time I’m injured, be less of a pigheaded brat.

We headed south toward Redcliffe, Haven being our ultimate destination. We were riding at a decent clip when we saw an especially downtrodden merchant on the side of the road. 

I looked behind me in Zevran’s direction. “Another Crow trap, Zev?” I asked.  
“No, no, no. I do believe killing those Howe soldiers bought you some leniency. As far as I can tell, this man is genuine.” 

I let out a sigh and dismounted from my horse. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked the dejected man. Yeah yeah yeah. I’d started to actually like helping people. Shut up.  
“Er… you’ll have to forgive me if I seem a bit nervous. Not many people traveling in this part of Ferelden. Of course, that’s part of my problem, isn’t it? Mule got spooked by a wisp and ran off into the woods. Now what do I do?”  
“So you need someone to… find your mule…” I mean, I did want to help but compared to slaying dragons and darkspawn and demons and zombies, this particular task seemed so… menial. But hey, maybe that was a good thing! I could probably do with a bit more boring in my life. 

“No, no, my helper is off doing that. But allow me to introduce myself. Felix de Grosbois, merchant and entrepreneur, at your service.”  
“I’m Scarlett.” I offered him my hand and he shook it.  
“A pleasure, my lady. I had come out here hoping for some luck but unfortunately this trip has offered one miserable disaster after another. I don’t suppose you’d… consider helping a fellow out?”

I didn’t really care for the way he said that last phrase. 

“Well, that really depends on the manner of your request, Felix.” I looked at him incredulously.  
“Of all the other things that have gone wrong since I came out here, the worst is this artifact I bought in Jader. It’s a control rod, I’m told, for a golem. No point in me keeping it, however, as I’ll never get to use it. But… maybe you could?”  
“Um… how much do you want for it?” I asked.  
“Nothing. I just don’t want to have to lug around something that might be taken for a gemstone by some bandit. To be honest I don’t even know if it’ll be useful to you. I paid too much to simply throw it away.”  
“This is… highly suspect, Felix. You just want to give this thing away? What’s the catch?”  
“Yes, I suppose there always is a catch, isn’t there? The catch is that the golem didn’t come with the rod. It’s supposed be in a village down south, waiting to be activated. Even if I could get down there—which I can’t—I understand the village is overrun by darkspawn.”  
“Darkspawn aren’t really a big deterrent for us.” I smirked. “But how do I know this thing will even work?”  
“I bought it from a long-standing contact. He didn’t want to come to Ferelden, however, with all our… troubles. He’s reliable but to be honest, I have no idea if it will work.” 

“Oh will you just take the bloody thing?” Morrigan groaned. “If it works we gain a rather useful weapon and if it does not, well, I am sure the elf can think of a few uses for such an… oblong instrument.” 

Oh. Gross. 

“Fine, I’ll take it.” I extended my open palm to Felix.  
“Oh wonderful.” He placed the rod in my hand. “You’ll find the golem in a town called Honnleath. Just south of Redcliffe.”  
“Ah. How fortuitous. We’re headed that way.”  
“You see? It’s… oh what’s that word… surreptitious?”  
“Serendipitous.” I rolled my eyes.  
“That’s the one! Anyway, when you find the thing just hold the rod up and say ‘Dulef Gar.’ That should wake the golem up.”  
“Er… thanks, Felix. This has been… weird.”  
“Best of luck to you then!” he beamed. 

I got back on my horse with Alistair behind me.  
“What an odd fellow.” He remarked.  
I nodded. “Well, it’s worth a shot, I guess. It can’t hurt.”  
“Famous last words.” He grinned. “And what was that word you used? The S one?”  
“Serendipitous?” I asked.  
“Maker, you dropping words like that combined with those glasses you had on last night is going to make me lose my mind.” He whispered in my ear. I grinned from ear to ear.  
“Oh, you like that, do you? I could talk nerdy to you all day, baby.” I looked behind me and wiggled my eyebrows at him. He just shook his head and laughed. 

…

We had a very respectable amount of ground covered when we were halted by another darkspawn attack. That was sort of par for the course by now. We all knew our roles to play and most of the time they posed little to no problem, especially now that we were mounted. I had to admit, riding on horseback with my sword drawn and decapitating Hurlocks while they were right in the middle of making that strange cackling sound they seemed to love so much—it was incredibly satisfying. 

“Is everyone alright?” I asked after the last of them was dead. 

And then I heard a thump and Leliana cry, “WYNNE!” 

I looked behind me to see Wynne lying on the ground unconscious.


	23. A New Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett decides to pay a visit to each of her traveling companions, and comes to realize each of them means more to her than she'd originally thought. Especially a certain other Grey Warden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

I got off the horse as quickly as humanly possible and ran to her side. 

“Wynne?!” I placed my head on her chest to listen for her heartbeat or feel her breathing. For a few seconds, I detected neither. Then I heard a soft groan. 

“Oh, I fell.” She said matter-of-factly, bringing her hand up to her forehead. “For a moment there I… thought it was all over.”  
“Wynne.” I began sternly. “One freak accident I’ll give you, but two in as many days? Not buying it. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”  
“I… I will explain everything when we are back at camp. Now is not the time.”  
“We’re not moving another inch until I know what’s going on. We’ll set up camp here.”  
“Here? With all the corpses and blood littering the ground?” Leliana asked, making no attempt to mask her disgust. Funny, I never really took her for the squeamish type.  
“Fine, Meatball, clean up this mess, will you? And Zevran, I’d imagine you’re quite adept at disposing of bodies in your line of work. Would you mind?”  
“Sure, sure. Give the assassin all the dirty work. You have found yourself the bullseye of an easy target, my beauty.”  
I rolled my eyes. “Just get it done. Please.”  
He begrudgingly lowered his head in acknowledgment. “As you command.” 

After the area was clear, we set up our tents and ate Alistair’s miserable excuse for a meal. The Maker had blessed the boy with many skills, but any sort of culinary aptitude definitely eluded him. Then I went to speak with Wynne. I had to know what was going on. I was literally worried sick—my stomach was all in knots (although that could have been due, in part, to Alistair’s attempt at cooking). What was wrong with me? To be honest, I don’t know why my reactions had been so extreme when I’d seen her hurt. I mean, of course you worry to some degree even when a complete stranger might be hurt. And you worry far worse when it’s a friend. But this was something else. I was feeling… protective. Almost like a mama bear looking out for her baby cubs. Although Wynne was probably more than double my age, I still felt as though she was my responsibility. All of my companions were. If something was wrong, then that meant I had failed to protect her. Not a fun realization. It didn’t help matters that she somehow managed to ooze maternity. She always just seemed so nurturing and caring and with my own mother gone, well, let’s just say Wynne had a special place in my heart. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, too. 

“I feel I owe you an explanation about earlier.” She said as I drew closer.  
“Yes, you… had me quite worried.”  
“You should know that… something happened to me at the tower. Before you came along. My apprentice encountered a demon there; a demon that would have killed her had I not intervened. I saved her life that day.”  
“I feel a ‘but’ coming on…”  
“But I did not survive that encounter with the demon.” She deadpanned as though this admission were no big deal. I felt my eyes grow wide with shock. Then the gravity of her statement began to settle into my brain.  
“You’re… you’re undead?” I asked.  
“Let me explain fully. That demon took everything I had. I felt my very life-force ebbing away. And then I… sensed a presence. Enfolding me and cradling me. Whispering quietly to me. The sensation is impossible to describe. I was being held back, firmly but gently, as a mother would a child, eager to slip from her grasp. I felt life and warmth flowing through my veins again.”  
“That’s an amazing story. What was this… presence?” I asked, trying with all my might to not let my cynicism take over.  
“The Fade contains spirits both benevolent and malicious. The benevolent spirits seldom make themselves known because they want nothing from mortals, unlike the demons. It was one of these spirits that saved me. Without it, I would be dead. And it has not left me. It is with me, even now, bonded to me. You see, I am supposed to be dead. It is the spirit that is keeping me in this world. And this is not the way of things. Perhaps the spirit did not expect this, but it is weakening, gradually. I am living on borrowed time.”  
“Aren’t we all…” I whispered as I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes. “How long do you have?”  
“I do not know. I can feel when the spirit weakens, so I should have fair warning. But come, let us stop talking about this. There is time yet.”

I nodded as I swallowed the lump in my throat. 

“You know, the other night I couldn’t help but overhear your cries of sorrow.” She put her hand on my shoulder.  
My eyes fell in embarrassment. “Sorry about that. Being so close to Highever, it… well, my emotions were running high.”  
“Don’t apologize.” She gave me a soft smile. “I know you have lost much; too much for someone who has barely begun to live her life. But death is just another part of living. We honor those we’ve lost by living our lives to the fullest. And although I never knew your mother or father, I will say that they would be very proud of the fiery, honorable, strong-minded young woman you are. I know I am.” She smiled wider and I pulled her in for a hug. I didn’t even care.  
“Thank you, Wynne. Coming from you that… means a lot.” I whispered in all sincerity. She gave me one last squeeze before letting go. “Now get some rest, okay?” She nodded and disappeared into her tent to lay down. 

I started walking back toward my tent when I saw Zevran looking especially sulky. Oh goody. I took a deep breath and reluctantly made my way over to him. 

“What’s wrong, Zev?” I asked.  
“Do you care?” he shot back.  
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Tell me what’s up.”  
“I… I feel that despite all my tries, I am of no value to you.” He explained sullenly.  
“Hey, that’s not fair. Is this because I keep shooting down your rather obvious and contrived advances?”  
“Only partially.” He gave me a slight smile, then reverted back to all seriousness. “I feel that after all this time, you still do not trust me.”  
“I’m not one for trusting easily, Zev. It’s just the way I am.”  
“Despite that, I bet you would trust your life to Alistair, Wynne, Leliana… even Morrigan.”  
“What, no Sten?” I inquired.  
“You have not warmed to Sten, nor he to you. Or do I misread the situation?”  
“No, you’re not wrong. We have a… tricky relationship, he and I.”  
“Understandable, but I digress. You do not deny that you implicitly trust the other four. Why am I not in their company?” 

He looked hurt. Genuinely hurt. Zevran’s personality did make him something of an easy target, I admit. Between all his flirtations and joviality and general lack of moral fiber, it was easy to forget he’s an actual person with real feelings. Perhaps I did take his help for granted. Still, he’s had red on his ledger ever since that day we’d first met, and it would take a lot to undo that. 

“Zevran, I realize your attempt on my life was nothing personal, I do. And I also realize you’re trying your best to put that behind you and make amends. You’re just going to have to accept that it’s going to be an uphill battle with me. I’m sorry.” 

He crossed his arms and his expression soured even further. 

“But…” I began, “I will say that I do appreciate everything you’ve done in the name of this cause. It hasn’t been your battle to fight and you’ve kept on fighting it anyway. You could have left a million times by now but you’ve chosen to see this thing through. And I greatly respect you for that.” I gave him my best smile. 

He gave me a half smile back. “Alas, it is not ideal but… I will take it.” He paused. “But I’ve a question, if I may.”  
“Shoot.”  
“Well, here’s the thing. I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you’re on and all that is fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me after. As a point of curiosity.”  
“Well, to be honest I hadn’t given it much thought, but I suppose you’ll be free to do whatever you wish, Zev. You’re not my slave. You’re no one’s slave. Not anymore. I mean, really, you’re free now. You can leave whenever you’d like.”  
“Oh? I made the oath willingly but if that’s how you see it then all the better. For the moment it’s still best I stay, considering my standing with the Crows. But let’s assume that I didn’t desire to leave when the time came. What then?” 

He was so lost without someone barking orders at him—without some mark to eliminate. It made me feel really sorry for him. And come to think of it, I feel like this is the first time he and I had an actual conversation from one human being to another—not shameless flirt to disposable pleasure or ruthless assassin to prescribed target. Maker, maybe I really had treated him badly. Maybe all of them were feeling this way—gloomy and dejected and unwanted. Maybe ignoring everyone over the past few days had come with a price. Damnit, Scarlett! I hated how short-sighted I could be sometimes. 

“Well, I could always use a friend.” I smiled and extended my hand to him for a shake. He looked down at it and grabbed it in his before bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. 

I let out a heavy sigh. “Just couldn’t resist, could you?”  
“I am nothing if not persistent.” He grinned. I gave a half smile back just shook my head. Oh that elf was incorrigible. 

I decided to take it upon myself to pay everyone a little visit. You know, check in, make sure they’re holding up okay despite the constant brushes with death and tragedy. I’d been so wrapped up in my own despair the last several days I hadn’t even thought to consider the others and their feelings. Stupid, stupid Scarlett. That is no way to lead. Shame on me. 

Leliana was laying on her back looking up at the sky across the way from Zevran, so I figured I’d talk to her next. I moved to sit on the ground beside her. 

“How is she doing?” she asked as she raised herself up on her elbows.  
“Wynne? She’ll be alright.” I lied.  
“Do not tell fibs to someone well trained in the art of deception, Scarlett.” She smirked. Okay, fair point.  
“Well, it’s not my story to tell but, I don’t know if she’ll be with us much longer.”  
Leliana let out an audible sigh. “Such a shame. I’ve grown to really like her.”  
I nodded. “We all have, it seems. Meatball even let her give him a bath. Although I did have to bribe him.” I smirked. “How are you holding up? I know you wanted some alone time after…”  
“Don’t. Don’t say her name. But yes, I am feeling better now, thank you.”  
“I’m sorry about how all of that had to end, Leliana. And I’m here if you do want to talk about it. You’ve already been there for me on several occasions. I really appreciate that.”  
“What are friends for?” she smiled as she reclined. “Come, lay down with me. The stars are out.” 

I laid down on my back and looked up to see what she saw. The stars really were quite beautiful. It’s so easy to ignore the beauty in the world when all you see day in and day out is pain and suffering and destruction. 

“It comforts me to know that the stars will remain untouched by the Blight—that whatever happens down here, they will shine eternally, their light undimmed.”  
“That’s… yes, I suppose that is a comforting thought. That there is something greater out there than this bloody, seemingly endless struggle.” I agreed.  
“There is a story about that cluster of stars over there.” She pointed to the one she meant. “Do you know it? Alindra and her soldier?”  
“Can’t say I do. Regale me.” I grinned. I did so love her stories.  
“Well, a long time ago there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors, but spurned them all for she did not love them.”  
I let out a slight laugh. “Sounds familiar.”  
“One day, Alindra was sitting by her window in her father’s castle, singing and dreaming, when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier. Entranced by her song, the soldier drew near to Alindra’s window. As their eyes met, he fell in love with her, and she with him.”  
“Okay, that sounds really familiar. Are you doing this on purpose?” I asked.  
“Do you want to hear this story or not?!” she chided.  
“Sorry. Continue.” 

She went on to explain that the father disapproved and he had Alindra locked away and her love killed. All the similarities between Alistair’s and my romance ended with the whole song bit. Or at least, I hope that’s where they ended. 

“When she received news of his death, Alindra beseeched the gods to deliver her from this cruel world. So earnest was her plea, that the gods themselves were moved and turned her into a star. The gods also raised the soul of her love, and there he dwells, across the horizon from her. The band of stars between them is Alindra’s tears, cried for her lost love.”  
“Wow, Leliana. This story is extremely depressing.”  
“Hush. There’s more. They say that when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river to be reunited with her soldier.”  
“Yeah, that’s not really what I’d call a happy ending…”  
“Perhaps not, but this story is one of my favorites; a tale of a love so great and enduring it defies death and moves the gods to action. Sometimes I ask myself, does such a love exist? Can it exist?” 

I didn’t respond but as soon as she said it I closed my eyes and my thoughts immediately turned to Alistair. 

“But then I look at you and him…” she said barely above a whisper, “and I know it does.”

I sat up immediately as her words began to hit home, as though I were pulled by an invisible string. Wow. Love. L-O-V-E. Love was… a big fucking deal. I honestly hadn’t even tossed that word around before this very moment. And the more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. I knew what Alistair and I have is more than some… fling. Whatever bond we share, it is made of sterner stuff. I just… love, up until now, was only something I’d read about in stories. I thought I had felt it toward Ser Tristan back in Highever, but when he shunned me, something inside of me simply shut down. I closed myself off. I made a silent vow to never make myself so vulnerable to a man ever again. But Alistair was so very special to me. Despite my every effort to keep him out, he’d found a way into my heart—and that was the terrifying part. 

“Scarlett, you look as though you have just seen a spirit.” Leliana observed. “Does the notion really scare you so?”  
“I… I don’t know. The more I think about it the more—”  
Leliana let out a slight chuckle. “And that is your problem. I know I have said this before but sometimes following your heart, not your head, will lead you to remarkable places.”

I quickly changed the subject. 

“Welp, I think that’s enough star-gazing for one night. Goodnight, Leliana.” I got up as fast as I could.  
“Goodnight.” She called back teasingly. 

I wandered all the way over to Morrigan next. 

“Oh do spare me. I am not a child. There is no need for you to treat me as such.”  
“Whoa, nice to see you, too.” I teased.  
“I have watched you making your rounds. I need not be coddled.”  
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger and tightly closed my eyes. Maker, she could be such a pill sometimes. Okay, let’s try a different approach. If there’s one thing I had come to learn about Morrigan, it was that she had a rather sizable ego. Luckily, over time, I had learned just how to stroke it. 

“I’m not here to coddle you. I’m here for your advice. I regard your counsel quite highly, you know.”

She cocked a brow at me but ultimately her expression softened. Damn I was good. 

“From one friend to another, how do you feel things are going?”  
“From your lack of specificity I could provide all manner of opinions.” She explained indifferently.  
“Okay, let’s say big picture: In our fight to end the Blight… how am I doing?”  
“You seem to suffer from more than your fair share of… distractions. And your preference regarding who warms your bed is absolutely abhorrent.”

I just rolled my eyes. 

“However, despite these truths, your methods do often prove… effective.” Was all she offered. Alright, I’d take it.  
“Effective. Effective is good, I suppose.” I paused. “At the risk of sounding… mushy, I want to let you know that I would be far less effective without your help, and your efforts are appreciated.”  
She just scoffed. “Oh do go bother Alistair with your overblown sentimentality. I have no use for it.” She crossed her arms in frustration but I know I saw a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself. Haha! Gotcha! But rather than taunt her I decided to leave well enough alone and go talk to Sten. 

“Just how do you intend to end the Blight?” he asked as soon as I got close enough to hear him.  
“Oh for fuck’s sake. What do you think I’ve been trying to do this whole time?!” Yeah, I lost my temper that quickly. I had initially come over to make nice but Sten had an uncanny ability to get under my skin at lightning speed. It was a gift. 

“You say you are a Grey Warden. I have heard stories of this order.”  
“We all have. What does that have to do with anything?” I asked impatiently.  
“Great strategists and peerless warriors—that is what we hear of the Wardens. So far, I am not impressed.”  
I scoffed and looked him straight in the eye when I said, “Well, lucky for us all, I am not here to impress you.”  
“Evidently not. It remains only to be seen what you are here for.” 

I just left. If I chose to stay in his presence a minute longer I was going to lose it and no one wanted that. Maker could that Qunari make my blood boil. 

I took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Meatball. Meatball could always make me feel better. 

“Hey, bud.” I knelt down to scratch him behind the ears. “I don’t think I thanked you for telling us about Wynne. You might have saved her life.” I smiled and pulled a new bone out from behind my back. “You definitely deserve this.” He gave me a happy bark and a ceaselessly wagging tail before going to town on the thing. Ahh, the simple, uncomplicated relationship between a girl and her dog. It was such a nice break from all the drama and baggage that everyone else came with. 

Since Meatball had opted to give his attention to nothing else but his new treat, I decided to go sit in front of my tent by the fire until I could no longer keep my eyes open. Before long most everyone went to bed, and the only ones left were Alistair and I, as it had seemingly come to be most every night since the very first. He got up from across the way and moved to sit beside me. 

“Well, how fare the troops, commander?” he teased.  
“Middling, at best.” I sighed.  
“Well, considering the circumstances, middling really isn’t all that bad. It could be far worse. We could all be dead.”  
I gave him a slight smile. “Not the best start to a pep talk, Alistair.”  
“Right, sorry.”  
I let out a sigh. “Zevran feels unappreciated. Sten thinks I’m completely incompetent. Wynne is… dying.” I whispered.  
“Dying?” he asked solemnly.  
I gave a slow nod. “We don’t know how long she has but… well, it’s not good.”  
“Maker… why do bad things always seem to happen to good people?”  
“I don’t know. But I am going to do everything within my power to tip the scales the other way.” I swore vehemently.  
Alistair let out a slight chuckle. “I so love that about you. When you set your mind to something there is absolutely nothing that can stand in your way.” 

Uh oh. There was that L-word again. Shields up! Deflect! 

“Oh, plenty of things stand in my way. Zombies, spirits, demons, darkspawn, dragons—especially dragons. Dragons are officially the worst.”  
“Yet you’ve overcome every last one of them. I know you were quite reluctant in the beginning but, you’re doing a pretty bang-up job, if you ask me.” He gave me a bright smile. I lifted his arm and put it around my shoulders.  
“What on earth did I do to deserve you?” I asked quietly as I snuggled into his chest.  
“Funny, I ask myself that very same thing all the time.” He confessed as he gave me a squeeze. 

I looked up to meet his eyes. I’d gone out of my way to make sure everyone knew I appreciated them tonight, or rather I at least made the attempt, but truly, no one deserved to hear it more than him. 

“I mean it, Alistair. You’ve said it to me before but I don’t think I’ve said it back.”  
“You don’t need to say it.” He offered softly.  
“Yes, I most certainly do. I don’t know how or why but somehow you manage to… I don’t know… calm the storms I have inside of me. Those walls I have… you’ve broken them down. You’re… you’re wonderful. I would not be here if it weren’t for you. I lo—” WHOA! STOP RIGHT THERE, YOUNG LADY! Not the L-word! Do you want to ruin everything?! I cleared my throat and tried desperately to save the phrase. “I mean…”

And before I could finish he leaned in to brush his lips gently against mine. That hunger I’d felt last night was still slightly present, but there was something else in this kiss. It was soft and tender and warm—as though he were pouring every ounce of sweet emotion he had into me. I tingled all over. It made me feel dizzy in the best way. It made all my troubles melt and I could focus on nothing but the feel of his lips against mine. 

“Wow,” he whispered against my lips as the kiss broke. 

I placed my hands gently on either side of his face and kissed him again, trying to evoke everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. The kiss was so soft, so delicate, so full of affection and yearning and devotion. 

I pulled away slowly and looked deeply into his eyes, desperate to convey what I dare not say aloud. 

“Scarlett…” he whispered. I closed my eyes and gently rubbed his nose with mine before leaning my forehead against his.  
“Alistair.” I whispered back.  
“This… this is someplace new, isn’t it?” 

I smiled and nodded slowly against him. 

“Yes. Yes, I believe it is.”


	24. Three Little Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Alistair has finally mustered up the courage to tell--and show--Scarlett how he really feels about her, and Scarlett is all too eager to reciprocate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is pure fluff/smut. If that is not your cup of tea, go no further! For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy! I can't wait to read your feedback!

We made it back to the outskirts of Redcliffe in record time thanks to those horses—definitely a good investment. The trouble we ran into along the way was relatively negligible and all injuries sustained were pretty minor. Even the squabbling was somehow kept to a minimum—a feat I thought to be damn near impossible. It felt as if things were actually going our way for once. I know. I could hardly believe it either. Nothing about this entire undertaking had been easy until recently. Surely fate was just biding its time and the other shoe was going to drop any day now. I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever awaited us in Haven was going to really, really suck.

Although it was tempting to return to Redcliffe castle and have a warm bath and sleep in a real bed for a change, I decided it would be best to set up camp just outside the city. I had given Eamon’s family my word that I would seek out those ashes and although I did fully intend to deliver, some time had passed since I’d made the promise and darkening their doorstep just didn’t feel right. I was the last hope for a man to see his brother, a wife to see her husband, and a son to see his father. I could not just show up empty-handed. We’d save the reunion for after we could restore Eamon to his former, conscious self.

After supper, I couldn’t help but notice Alistair seemed… extremely uneasy. Almost the same way he’d behaved the last time we arrived at Redcliffe and he confessed he was Maric’s son. I didn't quite know what to make of it. Was there something else he was holding back? Did he have another jaw-dropping confession to make? Well, only one way to find out.

“Alistair… are you… okay?” I asked as I approached him. He just ran his fingers through his hair anxiously and paced back and forth, the earth beneath his feet worn and disturbed.  
“Alright, I guess I really… don’t know how to ask you this.” He blurted out.   
“Hey, you can ask me anything. You know that.” I placed both my hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently to calm him down. He felt… clammy, even through his shirt. “…Are you sweating?”  
“No. I mean yes. I mean… I’m a little nervous, sure. Not that this is anything bad or frightening or… well… yes.” He stammered.   
“What’s going on?” He was really starting to worry me.  
“Will you just… come for a walk with me?”  
“A walk? That’s the big question?” I asked.  
“Yes. Well… No… Well, there’s something I’d like to show you.” He explained as he offered me his hand. I hesitantly took it and let him lead the way.

We walked about a mile into the woods before he stopped in front of a massive old oak tree.

“This is what you wanted show me? A big tree?” I swear, he was making less and less sense by the minute.  
“No. _That_ is what I wanted to show you.” He pointed upward to an old abandoned treehouse. Oh. I don’t know how I managed to miss that. The structure was nestled about twenty feet off the ground and though the wooden siding and somewhat dilapidated roof had definitely seen better days, it seemed structurally sound. I must admit I've always been fascinated by stuff like this—little treasures of a forgotten past that held all sorts of memories and secrets within. 

“Maker, it’s huge! How did you find this?” I asked.  
“Believe it or not, I used to come here a lot when I was younger. I told you Isolde made sure I never felt at home in the castle. This place… it was… my refuge. My escape. It was a place where I could just be Alistair instead of the bastard prince or someone else’s burden.”  
I gave him a soft kiss on the cheek for consolation. “You can always be yourself with me. I’ve grown rather fond of ‘just Alistair,’ truth be told.” I smiled.  
“I know. It’s… just about the best feeling in the world.” He reached to hold my hands and rested his forehead against mine before closing his eyes and softly speaking his confession. “Whenever I’m with you I just feel the most wonderful… freedom.” I smiled before giving him a soft kiss and slowly pulling away to look back up at the house. It really was immense. It would have taken someone years to complete it.

“So, you… built that?”  
“Oh no no no. It’s always been here, since before I can remember. I have no idea who built it, but thank the Maker someone did. I don’t know how else I would have survived my childhood without it.” He paused thoughtfully before making his way over to the tree trunk, turning back to face me, and extending his hand outward. “Shall we?”  
“You… want to go inside?” I inquired, slightly uneasy about the prospect but intrigued nonetheless. 

Instead of responding, he opted to just turn around and start climbing the wooden boards nailed to the tree trunk that formed a makeshift ladder. Once he was up, he reached down to offer me his hand to help pull me inside.

I had to duck a little once we entered the entryway but only a little. For something usually designed for children, the place was needlessly spacious. And I don’t know where he got them, but there were lanterns all around emitting a warm orange glow and a seemingly clean blanket lined the floor. All that combined with the purples and reds radiating from the sunset peeking through the slightly warped boards that made up the walls, well, everything looked so… cozy.

“You planned this.” I observed before giving him a slow smile.  
“Well I… hoped for it.” He smirked back as he took a seat on the blanket. I moved to sit down across from him.  
“I um… I have something for you.”  
“For me? What’s the occasion?” I asked.  
“Well, I’m hoping it’ll sort of speak for itself. Close your eyes.”

I did. Then I felt him place something solid and leathery into my hands. Oh, I’d know the feel of this anywhere.

“You got me a book?!” I asked excitedly.  
“Yes, but not just any book. Open your eyes.”

It was bound in dark red leather and the pages were adorned with gold leaf. As I carefully paged through it, I saw the poems within were written in the most ornate, meticulous calligraphy and the handful of illustrations throughout were hand-tipped. It was absolutely exquisite. Never in all my life had I been given such a priceless gift. I hugged it tightly to my chest before giving him a huge, face-sucking kiss.

“A book of poetry! It’s… it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you so much!” I beamed.  
“There’s actually one in particular I’d like you to read. I’ve marked the page.”

I gingerly opened the book to take a look but then thought better of it and closed it again. That sensual voice of his was a terrible thing to waste. Maker, I could listen to that boy talk for hours.

“Would you read it to me?”  
“Oh. I’m really not good at that sort of thing…” He admitted shyly.  
“Please?” I asked gently as I gave him the book. “I… I love the sound of your voice.”  
“…My voice? Really?”  
I nodded.  
He let out a sigh. “Alright, if you say so.”

His hands were trembling slightly as he held the book and flipped through its delicate pages, taking great pains to breathe slowly and evenly to calm himself. Once he located the passage he sought, he cleared his throat and began: 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt… I love.”

He made sure his eyes found mine as he uttered the last line and I saw every shred of sincerity shining through them. I felt my eyes grow wide as he spoke the words, then I had to look away—that look in his eyes was so affecting, so intense. I didn’t entirely know what to do. I was… dumbfounded.

“You… you love me?” I asked barely above a whisper.  
He nodded slowly. “Yes. Have for some time now. I just… never knew the right way to tell you. You’d think it would be easier but every time I’m around you I feel as if my head is going to explode; I can’t think straight. I figured borrowing someone else’s words—someone far more articulate than myself—was my best shot.”  
“Oh Alistair…” He reached for my hands and laced his fingers with mine.  
“I just… being near you… it makes me crazy. But I can’t imagine being without you. Not ever.”

I’d heard enough. I crushed my lips against his and held him so tightly I wasn’t entirely sure he could still breathe, but I didn’t care. I was so… touched. So moved. He’d gone through all this trouble just for me—just to show me that he cared. It made my heart so filled with joy and warmth and adoration it just about exploded in my chest. I wanted to say it in return, but suddenly as I felt the hunger growing in his kiss I could think of one thing and one thing only—those three little words could wait.

“Make love to me.” I spoke against his lips when I finally let him go.  
“Absolutely.” He grinned before I kissed him again and began grabbing at his shirt to lift it off him. He lifted his arms to help and once it was off, he buried his fingers in my hair, my braid giving way to loose, flowing, wavy strands. I pushed him backwards and straddled him before lifting my own shirt over my head and throwing it aside. Not to miss out on the fun of undressing me, Alistair reached up and slipped his fingers beneath my breastband, peeling it away eagerly to reveal my heaving bosoms. As soon as my chest was bare before him, his eyes lit up, all aglow with lust and anticipation. I couldn't help but smile. I had played through this scenario so many times in my head by now. The way he'd look at me. The way he'd sound and smell and feel. And now that we were here, I knew exactly what I wanted to do first. How I wanted to touch him, kiss him, taste him. Finally, he was all mine. No second guesses. No confines. No limits.

I leaned down and kissed him hard before my mouth began traveling lower, across the slight stubble surrounding his Adam’s apple, his broad chest, the top of his tight abdomen, his belly button. His breathing grew more and more ragged the lower my lips dared to venture. Then I slowly, purposefully, ran the flat of my tongue across his skin inside waistband of his breeches.

“Scarlett…” he moaned as I began to pull them down. Maker, I could tell even before the pants were off that he was already incredibly aroused. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to just take him immediately, but this was his first time and I knew he wouldn’t last long, no matter how hard he’d try. I’d waited too long for this to have it be over in five minutes, and the last thing I wanted was for him to feel embarrassed by ending things... prematurely. I wanted to take my time with him. I wanted us to really explore and get lost in each other. So, first things first.

I pulled his boots off so he could fully free himself from his pants. I could not get them off fast enough. I yanked as hard as I could but they just would not budge. Then I heard him let out a slight laugh.

“Trousers and tents seem to be your Achilles' heel,” he teased. “Allow me.”  
“You’re too kind.” I smirked. Then he raised up and pushed them down past his hips and I saw him for the very first time in all his rigid glory. Maker's breath did he look irresistible. A curly blond patch of hair surrounded the thick base of his shaft, that lovely thickness extending all the way up to his round, pink tip, the rush of blood making it a slightly darker hue at the very top, slick and shiny with beads of precum. I could see the slightest throbbing emanating from every vein and ridge, the twangs of excitement manifesting with each heated breath he took. Oh, he looked so very… delicious.

"...Scarlett? Is everything... alright?" He asked, obviously worried. Whoops. Guess I zoned out there for a second. If given the option, I probably could have just stared at him for hours. Instead, I got my face close to his newly exposed manhood and made sure his eyes met mine before I placed a slow, sucking kiss on the tip of it.

“Merciful Andraste!” He moaned as he threw his head back. Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, young man.

I ran my tongue in lazy circles around his tip over and over and over again. The sounds of his quickened breaths, his soft moans of ecstasy—it was the sweetest music I’d ever heard. After a few minutes passed, I moved to take his entire length into my mouth, earning me a slight change in tune—this one louder and much faster than the one before. Inch by delectable inch I took him deeper as I heard him let out a deep groan and watched the look of absolute pleasure play over his face as my tongue flicked over the little mountain of flesh right below the tip of him. Then I retracted so only the tip of him remained surrounded by my lips as my tongue flicked against him once more.

“Scarlett…” he panted, “If you don’t stop I’m—”  
“Shhhhh.” I whispered as I let him fall out of my mouth. “I want you to.”  
“But—”

Before he could finish his protest I took his entire length back into me until I felt his head at the back of my throat. That did it. I felt him tense and he moaned so exquisitely as he released his sweet juices against my soft palate. I echoed his moans as I tasted him for the very first time, the vibrations from my throat against his now very sensitive member making him purr. I so adored making him purr for me.

Once I was sure I hadn’t missed a single drop, I moved back up on his body so my eyes were level with his.  
“What did you… Did you… drink… that?” he asked, absolutely puzzled by the notion.  
I gave him a wicked grin and licked my lips before I answered, “I like the taste of a job well done.”  
“…Y-You do? I mean… Oh. It was… um… definitely that. Definitely.” He declared breathlessly before giving me a shaky smile. Then he looked me up and down. “I can’t help but notice you’re still mostly clothed… I should probably do something about that, right?”  
“I wouldn’t object.” I smirked before I moved off of him to lay on my back. He crawled on top of me. I couldn’t be sure, but I think I felt his fingers tremble as he attempted to untie my pants. His apprehension was absolutely adorable.

“Um… a little help perhaps?” he asked sheepishly.  
“What, pants are your Achilles' heel, too?” I taunted. Ahhh payback.  
“Yes, alright. I guess it’s not as easy as it looks.” He smirked.

I stuck my thumbs into my waistband and raised my hips as I pushed the leather down over them and I couldn’t help but watch his face the whole time. He was looking at me as though I were a highly anticipated present being unwrapped before his voracious eyes. 

“So, remember those pesky boots? We'll need to take care of this first.” I smirked.  
“Oh, right. Sorry.” And he worked to remove them. Luckily, those gave him less trouble than the pants. Then he placed his hands over mine and we worked to pull my pants the rest of the way down, completely exposing me to him for the very first time. He looked nowhere but at my eyes at first, as though he were still awaiting permission to look at all of me. I smiled and gave him the slightest of nods and he let his eyes wander over the rest of my body, a look somewhere between absolute awe and that glorious hunger I’d come to know and love radiating from them.

“Touch me, Alistair.” I demanded gently as I slowly opened my legs to him.  
“Maker have mercy…” he murmured before I heard him swallow hard. Aww he was so nervous, bless his heart. Alright, he’d rescued me many times over by now. Time to return the favor.

“Come here. Give me your hand.” I reached for him and moved my legs so they cradled his muscular frame. He moved over me so we were face to face, his weight resting against my body as I laced his fingers with mine. I guided his hand down over my curvaceous form, over my breast, my side, my lower stomach, until we reached our destination. I positioned his fingers right against my swollen little pearl and began moving them painfully slowly over it.

“Oh Maker, yes… right there....” I affirmed breathlessly.

He panted against my lips as I moved my hand away and let him continue by himself.

“…Here?” he asked as he kept working me with his fingertips.

I figured my moans of ecstasy were confirmation enough as my hips bucked hard against his hand. Oh boy was he a quick study. Before long he was quickening the pace of his fingers as they rolled over my sensitive little bud. The pleasure was almost mind-numbing and he hadn't even gone inside me yet. He applied a little more pressure, the rough pads of his fingertips sliding against the slickness of my folds. 

“Oh Alistair!” I cried.  
“Tell me. Tell me what you want, Scarlett.” He nibbled at my lips. He was growing bolder now. 

Better to show him. I grabbed his hand again and guided his fingers over my opening.

“Oh Maker… you’re so… so wet.”  
“It’s for you.” I panted against his lips. “All of it is for you.”

I raised my hips and felt him slip inside of me for the first time. My eyes rolled with pleasure as I removed my hand and let him continue pumping his fingers into me on his own, his digits long and thick and calloused and filling me with so many sensations simultaneously that I could barely stand it. I grabbed the blanket beneath us so tightly my knuckles turned white, trying with all my might not to go over the edge. I was determined to save my climax for when he was inside me—truly inside me.

“Scarlett…” He removed his fingers and moved to pin my wrists above my head, aligning our hips and positioning himself between my legs. Once again he was hard and ready for me, the tip of his manhood moving up and down my seam before settling right outside me. He didn’t seem to need any guidance for this part.

“Oh Alistair! PLEASE!” I cried out as I felt the tip of him press against my dripping wet opening.

“I love you.” He professed as he looked deeply into my eyes, not moving an inch further. He was… challenging me. He was demanding an answer this time. Oh sod it. There was no harm in saying it if I meant it. And in that moment, as I looked back into those hazel eyes filled with desire and worship and affection, I knew with every fiber of my being that I was hopelessly, irrevocably, head over heels in love with this man.

“I love you, too.” I said softly. “I love you so much.” I raised up and kissed him hard and that was enough. He pushed his way inside me, my walls throbbing and hot and tight as I felt him push further in, filling me up inch by inch. I let out a sharp gasp, which competed with his deep, lingering moan. Maker, he filled me up so completely it almost hurt, but it was definitely treading that exquisite line between pain and pleasure.

“Are you alright? I’m not hurting you…” Worry overshadowed his face and his hips stopped moving for the briefest of moments when he asked.  
“Oh don’t you dare stop.” I ordered as I raised my hips up to meet his.  
He relaxed and let a slow smile play across his lips. “Your desire is my command.”

And he began moving his length in and out of me in the sweetest, most torturous rhythm imaginable. He was moving so agonizingly slowly I thought I was going to lose my mind. I don’t know where his restraint came from; I wanted to go at a much quicker pace now that I finally had him where I’d wanted him for so long. Ultimately, I surrendered to his unhurried rhythm; I wanted to savor every glorious second.

“Alistair...” I moaned against his parted lips as I tasted his labored breaths. He moved to lace his fingers with mine and squeeze my hands as he pinned them down.  
“I do so love hearing you moan my name.” he confessed as he pushed harder with the following thrust. Hmm... Maybe I was onto something here…  
“Alistair.” I whispered again. Sure enough, he pushed harder still and started moving his hips faster, the tip of him reaching even deeper inside of me than before. I wrapped my legs tightly around him and felt his shaft beginning to throb harder as my walls enveloped him tighter.

“Andraste’s flaming sword!” he cried.

I let out a deep groan as I felt every single one of my nerve endings tingle and flicker. I was so close. So fucking close.

“Alistair, that little button I showed you before…”  
“Yes?” he asked as his rhythm sped up even further. Oh Maker have mercy!  
“Touch it!” I demanded.

I expected him to reach down between us with his hand, but instead he opted to rub me with the tip of his cock and that sent me crashing over the edge. Blinded with intensity as I felt the orgasm begin to crest, I moved my hips so he slipped back inside me and I came harder than I had ever come before in my entire life. Wave after wave of pleasure poured over me as I wrapped my legs around him even tighter. I felt my walls pulse and spasm around him and after a few more hard thrusts he joined me. I heard a deep, guttural groan as I felt him erupt inside of me, pumping more and more of his sweet juices deeper and deeper with each unyielding thrust. Then he collapsed on top of me, completely spent. I held him close and gently ran my nails over his back, feeling the goosebumps raise in their wake.

When he could bring himself to move again, he started planting gentle kisses across my chest, my neck, my chin, then finally my lips.

“You mean to tell me that all this time… _that’s_ what I’ve been missing?!” He grinned. I couldn’t help but chuckle.  
“Oh, you were very much worth the wait, trust me.” I kissed his sweaty brow and began running my fingers through his hair as he rested his head on my chest. Euphoric and relaxed, he started purring for me again.

After a few moments passed, he raised up so his eyes met mine. “Did I mention that I love you? I did? Well, it won’t kill you to hear it again, will it?” He smirked. I planted a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.  
“I love you, too.” I smiled. It felt so good to say it out loud—to know that he felt the same way. I just felt so… safe. So cared for. So deliriously happy.

He let out a slight snicker. “See? Was that so hard?”  
I shook my head. “No, I actually rather like the sound of it.” I smiled.  
“Me too.”  
“I um… I know you said you wanted to wait until everything was perfect…” I began.  
“I know.” He interjected. “Sorry. I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place… I just… when was it ever going to be perfect? If things were, we wouldn’t have even met in the first place, right?”  
“I was just about to say that it _was_ perfect. Absolutely everything. I couldn’t wish for anything more. I want to stay in this moment forever.” I gave him my most genuine smile and he planted a soft kiss on my lips.  
“Do you have any idea how lucky we are to have found each other?” He whispered against my lips as I brushed mine against them again.  
“One might say it’s serendipitous.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him.  
“Oh Maker, don’t get me all revved up again. A man needs some time to recharge, you cruel verbose vixen. That Grey Warden stamina only goes so far, you know.”  
I let out a hearty laugh. “Sorry, sorry. Take all the time you need.” I moved to lay on my side with my back against him and basked in the magnificent afterglow.  
“With you laying here naked beside me, it won’t be long, trust me.” He smiled as he moved to spoon me, then gently ran his fingertips down the side of my torso.

Then I suddenly became very, very aware of how completely exposed I was. I began feeling shy… a bit insecure. There’s nothing quite like being totally naked beside a man for the first time after the heat of passion has ebbed to make a girl feel extra self-conscious. Despite all the exercise my various misadventures afforded me, I never managed to shed my curves. My breasts were still round and full, my midsection was still a bit fleshy, my thighs were still thick. And now, thanks to Flemeth, I had some lovely scars to boot. I reached for the edge of the blanket to hide myself.

“After all that… activity… you can’t possibly be cold.” He smirked.  
“I’m not… I’m just…”

Then, as if he could read my mind, he asked, “Have I told you lately how indescribably beautiful you are?” he whispered into my ear as he threw the blanket off me. That earned him a wide smile.  
“You… you really think so?” I whispered back timidly as I looked over my shoulder to meet his eyes.

“Oh Scarlett… I can’t even begin to tell you…" He paused for a beat as he slowly looked me up and down. "Your ivory skin, the way your hair falls without you even trying, the way your green eyes shine, the pillowy fullness of your lips when you kiss me… And those curves, Maker help me... Gah, I sound like an idiot, don’t I? Just rattling things off…”

“No, not at all!" I practically squealed as I corrected him. It was all so wonderful to hear, and judging from that bewitched look in his eyes, he meant every word. And that meant the world to me. "You’re very, very sweet.” Despite the blush I felt rushing to my cheeks from such flattery, I smiled brightly before I gave him another quick kiss. 

“What I mean to say is… Wait… I’m prepared for this.” He felt around for the book of poems he’d given me. He flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted.

“Ah, here it is.”  
“You already have one in mind, do you?” I smirked.  
“Well, I tried to plan for all possible scenarios, you know.” He winked before all playfulness melted away and that hungry look in his eyes returned. “…Shall I read it to you?” he asked in a husky murmur.  
I turned my head back around and fit my body against his before nodding slowly and closing my eyes. “Please.”

He kept his lips close to my ear and began reading in a low, sensuous tone.

“She walks in Beauty, like the night…” he began as I felt his hot breath tickle my ear. It made me shudder in the best way.

“Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that’s best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes”

I felt my breathing grow heavier and heavier as he uttered every seductive syllable. Then I felt his hand beginning to move from my hip, lower, lower still, as he began to caress the softness of my hair, tickling me with his fingertips before pushing past it and my swollen lips to find my still-drenched clit. Oh Maker have mercy!

“Alistair…” I moaned as he nibbled my ear before continuing.

“Thus mellowed to that tender light  
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.”

I slowly rocked my hips against his hand as he massaged me. I felt him beginning to grow hard again as he was pressed so tightly against the back of my naked form. But he was not deterred. He just kept on reading and working me with his fingers. I have no idea how he managed to keep his concentration; I was about ten seconds away from completely losing my mind.

“One shade the more, one ray the less,  
Had half impaired the nameless grace  
Which waves in every raven tress,  
Or softly lightens o'er her face”

He moved his body down and positioned himself so his throbbing hardness was right outside my opening. I let out a sharp gasp.

“Should I keep going?” he asked brazenly.  
I bit my lip and nodded as quickly as I could. I just… I had no words. Thank goodness he didn’t need them. He lifted my thigh and gradually thrust himself up inside of me, inch after broad inch forcing its way inside until he was fully seated. I pushed back against him as I heard him let out a deep moan into my ear. Maker, that alone was almost enough to send me over the edge. And then he started rocking his hips, the rhythm so easy and deliberate I could barely stand it. 

“Where th-thoughts… serenely… sssweet express,  
How pure… h-how dear… their dwelling-place.”

From all the time he now took to get those last words out, I could tell he could no longer stand having his attention so divided. I pushed harder against him and he moved his hand back to my hip, pulling me as close to him as possible before he closed the book and gently tossed it aside. With nothing else distracting him, he pushed himself in and out of me in strong, measured thrusts.

“Oh please, Alistair… faster…” I begged between my sharp, quickened breaths. Without a moment’s hesitation he granted my request and quickened his pace before moving his finger back to my now-throbbing clit. Sweet Andraste! He continued grinding against my backside, my senses drowning in the feel of his flesh meeting mine, the smell of sweat and excitement, the sounds of our moans and labored breathing. He dug his fingertips into the flesh of my hips as he went faster still, my walls stretched and throbbing as I felt a heat beginning to form deep within my core. I arched my back and let out a deep growl as I felt the orgasm hit me hard. He kept up the pace as I rode each wave of pleasure and before long, I felt him tense; he sunk his teeth deeply into my shoulder blade as I felt his hot, sticky release come gushing into me with a deafening roar.

“Maker have mercy! You… you’re trying to kill me…” he accused breathlessly once he came back down.  
I chuckled lightly. “Hey, you started it, Mr. Poet Laureate!” I grinned as I tried to slow my own breathing.  
“I have a beautiful naked goddess pressed against me. Of course I started it!” He countered. I let out a shy giggle. Then he saw the mark he’d left on my shoulder. “Andraste’s blood! Are you alright?! I didn’t even realize… I’m so sorry!”  
“Alistair, relax.” I found his hand with mine and snuggled against him.  
“But that looks like it really, really hurts… I… I don’t even remember doing it.”  
I rolled over to face him and brushed my lips against his before explaining in a low, teasing voice, “I sometimes like a little pain with my pleasure.”  
“Oh. So you… um… liked it?” he asked nervously.  
“I loved it.” I grinned. “All of it. Maker, the way you read that poem… I thought I was going to lose my mind.”  
“You very nearly did, as I recall.” He grinned, clearly proud of his accomplishment.  
“Sure, sure. Rub it in.” I rolled my eyes.  
“Phrasing!” he laughed. Despite my better judgment, I couldn’t help but giggle, too. That jerk.

“I do so love your laugh.” He confessed as he rolled onto his back and pulled me closer to him. I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes as I felt him play with my hair.

“Before I met you, I… I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to laugh again.” I admitted softly. “You’ve given me so much just by being you. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

“Before I met you I didn’t even know what love was. I wasn’t even sure it really existed, to be honest.”

I lifted my head to meet his eyes.

“Thank you for showing me.” He uttered softly. I gave him a gentle kiss.  
“I love you, Alistair. More than I ever thought possible.”  
“And I love you.” He kissed me again before I moved my head back down to rest on his chest.

“…Scarlett?” he asked after a lengthy pause.  
“Hmm?” I called back, barely still awake.  
“What now? Where do we go from here?”  
“Shhh. Just… be here with me. Right here. Right now. Let’s just stay here and ignore the rest of the world. Just for tonight.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled the blanket over us as I drifted off to sleep.

“That… I can do.”


	25. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Scarlett and Alistair have finally consummated their relationship, and much to Scarlett's chagrin, it has not gone unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos always make me smile!

I awoke to the feel of Alistair absent-mindedly running his fingers through my hair and the sound of his calm, steady heartbeat thumping into my ear. I planted a soft kiss on his chest before looking up to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” I smiled.  
“‘Good’ is a bit of an understatement, isn’t it?” he smiled back.  
“Hmm… point taken. Exuberant, joyous, rapturous, euphoric, effervescent… are any of these adjectives working for you or need I go on?” I teased.  
“You do have a way with words, you know that? Although, admittedly, there are three that I’ve grown especially fond of hearing.” 

I cocked my head to the side and bit my lip whilst feigning deep contemplation. 

“Hmm… ‘Breakfast is ready?’”

He tapped his chin with his index finger, pretending to really think about it. 

“A very good guess, but no.”  
“Um… ‘Morrigan’s become mute?’” 

He let out a good laugh at that one. 

“A very close second. Perhaps you should give it one more try.”  
I moved up to gently brush his lips with mine before whispering, “I love you.” 

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me a second time, more deeply. 

“I love you, too.” He smiled brightly. I gave him one more quick kiss before rolling over to try and find my clothes. 

“Oh, must you put them back on? Seems such a shame to cover up all that perfection. Hmm… nope. I simply cannot allow it.” He jested before he wrapped his arms around my waist and lightly tackled me back to the floor. I couldn’t help but blush and let out a few giggles. 

“We need to get back to the others, young man. Maker knows what they’ve been up to in our absence.” I explained pseudo-sternly as I looked up at him, trying to quell my laughter and get back to business.  
“You’re right…” he admitted before he leaned down to start kissing my neck. “We really should head back…” his voice became low and gravelly as he started nibbling at my throat. 

I nodded slowly as my eyes closed despite my efforts to remain focused and not succumb to his advances. I don’t even know why I bothered. There was no way I was going to win this battle. “Yes… we… we really—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before I felt him part my legs and slowly slide a finger inside of me. I let out a gasp as soon I felt him, then my blasted hips began rocking against him; why oh why did my hips never listen to reason?!

“Still want to leave?” he asked in his most seductive tone before sliding a second finger inside.  
“Oh Maker have mercy.” I whispered breathlessly.  
“Is that a no?” he teased as he kept working me with his hand. 

Oh, this would not do. I couldn’t have him thinking he could get away with anything now that he knew a few of my weaknesses. I firmly grabbed his forearm to stop him before I moved to straddle him, but made sure we were still misaligned so things went no further. I grabbed his wrists in my hands and pinned him down hard. 

“Just what did you think you were doing?” I asked authoritatively.  
“I… I was…”  
“You were… defying me.” I finished for him.  
“What?! No! A man would have to be crazy to go against someone as formidable as you, my lady.” He let a teasing smile play across his lips. “I was merely… exploring.”  
“Mmm…” I purred as I positioned myself right over him. One move of my hips and he’d be exactly where we both wanted. But oh, how I do live for that delicious tension—that moment right before giving in to our carnal desires. “Exploring, hmm? And what did you hope to find, I wonder…” I mused as I rubbed my wet folds against his hardness. He let out a helpless moan as his eyes rolled with pleasure. 

“I think you know…” he said barely above a whisper.  
“Say please.” I demanded softly. 

He moved his hips to try and find the right angle without surrendering, but I maneuvered right back and countered his attempt. I pinned him down harder and lowered myself closer to his face and bit his lip. 

“Say it.” I ordered as I positioned my wet opening right above the tip of him.  
“Merciful Andraste!” he exclaimed between hurried breaths as he felt me right against him. “Please, Scarlett!”  
“Hmm? Didn’t quite catch that.” I teased.  
“PLEASE!” he begged. 

Alright, alright. The boy had suffered enough. My hips came crashing down against his full force as I kissed him hard and we both let out low, animalistic moans into each other’s mouths. He pushed up into me with all his might and I rode him just as hard, our hipbones crashing into one another as the two of us fought to become one. We shook the whole damn treehouse, but Maker, was it hot. I freed his wrists as I sat up, watching the unbridled look of lust on his face as my breasts bounced up and down with each powerful thrust. He immediately moved to fondle them before sitting up himself to take one into his mouth—a move which drove him even deeper inside me. 

“Oh, Alistair!” I cried out as he placed his hands on my hips and pulled me even closer into him. He buried his face between my breasts and let out a deep moan as his lips wandered over my skin. Then he dug his fingers into the flesh of my hips before looking up at me. 

“Come for me, Scarlett.” He called out between hurried breaths. “I need to feel you.”  
“Please?” I taunted.  
“Maker, yes! Please! You’re driving me crazy!” 

I leaned back enough to change the angle slightly and make him hit that sweet, hard-to reach-spot deep inside me. I dug my nails into his back, holding onto him for dear life as he kept mercilessly pounding away at me. 

“Oh Maker I’m… I’m—”  
“Yes… YES!” He panted as his hips thrust up so hard into me that I was almost completely off the ground. 

I took in a sharp, audible breath as the orgasm hit me hard and shook me to my core. Alistair pulled me close to him and kissed me hard as he found his release as well, filling me to the brim with ecstasy. The intensity of our kiss ebbed as our rhythm began to slow and we attempted to catch our breath. 

He let out a slight chuckle as he reclined back down on the floor. I climbed off to lay beside him, still slightly shaken. 

“You… I… wow!” he grinned. “I mean… WOW!”  
“Mmm… well said.” I sighed as I tried to regain my composure.  
“You um… you take nice control,” he complimented. “This whole being a leader thing suits you quite well it seems.”  
“Well, someone has to keep you in line.” I winked.  
“It was um…” he cleared his throat, “I really liked it.”  
“I could tell.” I smirked. “I did, too. Although I think we almost caused the walls to come crashing down.”  
“A small price to pay, if you ask me.” He let out a contented sigh. “You know, according to the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now.”  
“Is that so?” I inquired playfully.  
“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it. I’m a bad, bad man.” He smirked.  
“Indeed you are. Here I was worrying about the Blight when it was really your deflowering that would bring about the world’s end. Oh what a fool I’ve been!” I brought the back of my hand to my forehead and oozed melodrama.  
“Hahaha my what?! Oh Maker!” He couldn’t stop snickering at the apparent absurdity of the phrase. “And that makes you, what? The deflower…er?”  
“Yep. Alas, ‘twas I who set this whole apocalypse in motion. Me… the one chosen to lead the fight against such a dark fate. I believe that’s what you would call ironic.”  
“Well, we’re literally in a tree and haven’t been struck yet. We may be safe.” He argued.   
“Time will tell.” I smirked and kissed the tip of his nose before getting up to gather my clothes. “And don’t try to stop me this time!” I demanded as I pointed my finger at him.  
“Yes, yes, alright.” He pouted. “So, um… you do realize the rest of our little party is going to talk, right? They do that.”  
“First smart comment and I feed them to the darkspawn.” I explained matter-of-factly.  
He let out a short laugh. “See? This is why I love you.”  
“I love you, too.” I gave him a brief kiss. “Now get dressed. Time to descend back into reality.” 

…

When we made it back to camp I literally felt as though I were performing the ultimate walk of shame. Everyone had been going about their business until Alistair and I walked up. Then all eyes were on us and nowhere else. Everyone stopped right in the middle of what they were doing to stare. The silence was deafening. Oh sod it! I am a grown woman for crying out loud! If I want to disappear to some secluded hideaway in the woods and have mind-blowing sex for hours with the man I love, that is my business! 

“What?! Did I suddenly sprout a second head or something?!” I called out. 

Everyone hurriedly went back to being “busy.” Alistair and I grabbed what little remained of breakfast before I made my way over to Morrigan. 

“Morning.” I greeted.  
“Puh. Barely. How that ignoramus managed to keep you occupied for so long is beyond my comprehension.”  
“Speaking of said… occupation… I need to ask a favor.”  
“Oh? This should be good.”  
“Well… as you may have guessed, Alistair and I… um… err… consummated… our relationship last night… um… a lot. And again this morning.”  
“Oh spare me the repugnant details. Drink this.” She offered me a cup of… something.  
“You already knew I’d ask?” I took the cup from her.  
“Yes, when you disappeared together last night it was not a difficult leap to foresee you may be in need of a contraceptive. Do give me a little credit, Scarlett.”  
“Right. Thanks, Morrigan. Maker knows I have enough to worry about. Pregnancy would just be the cherry on top.”  
“No doubt.”

I drank it down as though it were a shot of whiskey. It tasted terrible but it sure was better than the alternative I faced without it. 

“I am sure this goes without saying, but it would be safer still to simply abstain. You are aware of this, yes?”  
I nodded. “I am but… realistically? Not going to happen.”  
She just folded her arms and shook her head. “Really? Of all the men in Thedas it is he you simply cannot resist?”  
I nodded some more before I felt a goofy grin appear across my lips. “I’m… well, enamored, really.”  
“Oh do not tell me you have fallen in love with that simpleton.” She scoffed.  
“And if I have?”  
“Love is a weakness we cannot afford. The dependency, the anxiety, the distraction. You will regret it, in the end. Mark my words.”  
“Hey, I tried to fight this. I really did.”  
“Mmm… yes, I do recall a few days where your manner was exceedingly dreary. I just thought you had fallen ill. All that was because of him?”  
“Driving him away… it ate me up inside until I felt nothing but emptiness. The same emptiness I felt when I lost my family. I’m sick of feeling hollow, Morrigan. I feel like I’ve been little more than a shell of a human being my entire life, merely existing instead of truly living. It’s… different, with him. It’s as though I were just lying dormant for years and now I’m finally waking up. There’s no feeling like it in the world. And Maker help me, I will die before going back to the way things were before.”  
“And if that is indeed what comes to pass? What if you are forced to choose between the Warden you love and ending the Blight? What would your choice be?”  
“I cannot envision a scenario where that choice would come into play, Morrigan.”  
“That is no answer to the question.” She pointed out. She was right. And that’s because I had no answer. And that was the exact moment when my bubble burst and I came crashing back down to the cold, unforgiving ground. Hard.  
“Thanks for the drink.” I handed the cup back to her before leaving. Why would she even ask that? Does she know something I don’t? Was she just throwing out a worst-case scenario and seeing how I would react? No, there was more to it. Of that, I had no doubt. Nothing is ever that straightforward where Morrigan is concerned. FUCK. I needed to delve back into Avernus’s notes. Maybe they could clue me into what I was truly up against in the fight to come. 

But first, we had to get going while there was still daylight. Haven was still a few days’ ride from here. Time was of the essence. 

After I packed up my things and instructed everyone to do the same, I found myself in a quandary. Now, in traveling situations, I typically rode with Alistair, and that was fine. Now that we’d been… intimate, however, I was slightly worried about having him in such close proximity to my body for an extended amount of time. We’d likely not get ten feet down the road before I pounced and demanded I have my way with him. Again. Ugh. 

“Alistair!” I called.  
“My love?” he answered. Alright, I had to admit, that brought a smile to my face. He was just so… cute!  
“Please don’t take this the wrong way but… I’m thinking we shouldn’t ride together.”  
“Oh? Don’t trust me?” he smirked.  
“More like I don’t trust me.” I smirked back.  
He let out a short laugh. “Fair enough. I’ll ride with Wynne,” he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “but my mind will be thinking of nothing but the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the feel of you wrapped around me…”  
“Maker’s breath.” I gasped as I felt those familiar goosebumps rise and things low in my body tighten. Damn sensitive ears. I’d literally had him less than an hour ago and I was already aching for him again. This was going to be a looooooong trip. 

“Sorry, I can’t help it. I love getting a rise out of you.” He admitted before gently nibbling my ear.  
I pulled his body close to mine, turned my head and gave him a slow, sultry kiss. It wasn’t long before I could feel his excitement. “Funny… seems I got a rise out of you.” I smirked.  
He let out a slight chuckle. “Touché. Alright, now I need a minute alone. Or maybe ten. Ten would be good. Maker have mercy.” 

I opted to ride with Leliana and we were off as soon as Alistair regained his composure. 

I kid you not, we made it maybe ten minutes into the journey before she addressed the proverbial elephant in the room. Blast! Couldn’t a girl have any secrets? Was I really so damn transparent?

“Soooo… you and Alistair… finally… you know.”  
“Ugh, must we talk about this? Did I come back to camp wearing a big sign that read ‘I just got laid!’?”  
She let out a giggle. “No, but you may as well have. You both returned together… looking contented. You have a glow about you. So shameless.”  
“Sorry. I’ll do better to keep my happiness in check.”  
She rolled her eyes. “So… how is Alistair?”  
“…Are you seriously asking me this right now?”  
“You need this! A little girl talk is good for the soul. Besides, who else will listen?”  
“Oh I’m sure Sten is just clamoring to hear the juicy details.” I smirked.  
“Hehehe oh come on. He must be quite delightful; you wouldn’t be so happy otherwise. He’s athletic… that’s always nice. And I’ll bet he’s good at following orders, isn’t he?”  
“He’s… an apt pupil, yes.” I blushed. “But I confess, he sometimes has rather brilliant ideas of his own, too.” Reading me that poem was just shy of genius. Great. Now all I had running through my head were obscenely vivid images of he and I together, doing unspeakable things to each other. Gah! I don’t even know why I was indulging her and discussing any of this. I guess it was a nice change of pace from Morrigan’s harsh dose of reality. Leliana seemed… well, happy for me. It made me feel like maybe everything would turn out okay in the end. That maybe I wasn’t such a terrible person for allowing myself this one concession—allowing myself to love and be loved in return. 

“Oooh that’s interesting. The little Templar is all grown up and apparently he,” she pretended to clear her throat, “plays well with others. You must keep me updated on any new developments.” She grinned.  
“Oh absolutely. I’ll be sure to come running to you as my first order of business immediately afterward. Or, better yet, maybe I’ll just do a running commentary. Or send a carrier pigeon.”  
“Oh you’re impossible.” 

The conversation between Leliana and I quelled just in time for me to eavesdrop on what Wynne was saying to Alistair. 

“So, you and our fearless leader seem inseparable these days… joined at the hip, almost.”  
“There has been a certain amount of hip joining, yes.” He smirked.  
“Well then, now that you’re in an intimate relationship, you should learn about where babies really come from.” 

I swear to the Maker, I literally had to place both hands over my mouth to keep from bursting out in an enormous fit of laughter. Thank goodness Leliana had the reins. 

“Pardon?” he asked.  
“I know the chantry says you dream about your babies, and the good Fade spirits take them out of the Fade and leave them in your arms…” she had a sing-song quality to her voice that made her sound as though she were explaining this to a five-year-old, “but that’s not true. Actually, what happens is that when a girl and a boy really love each other—”  
“Andraste’s flaming sword, I know where babies come from.” He explained bitterly. At this point my shoulders were literally shaking with my stifled giggles.  
“Do you? Do you really?” Wynne inquired.  
“I certainly hope so!”  
“Oh, alright then. Aww look. You’re all red and mottled. How cute!”  
“You… you did that on purpose!”  
“Now, now, Alistair. Why would I do such a thing?” she asked coyly.  
“Because you’re wicked. That frail old lady act. I’m so not fooled. I’m onto you.” 

I looked over at Sten and Morrigan. Despite Morrigan’s attempts to rile him, Sten’s sour expression never changed. He was downright sullen, even more than usual. That did not bode well but in all honesty, every time I attempt to talk to him I just end up angry and nothing ever gets resolved. I opted to let the sleeping dog lie, as it were. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the day turned into night and we made camp. Maker’s breath, that was the longest, most awkward ride I ever had to endure in my entire life. Everyone had an opinion or some snide comment on my love life. It was unbearable. Well, everyone except Sten and Zevran—Zev was uncharacteristically quiet. Odd. I figured he’d be the first to pounce on such juicy gossip. 

After supper I went back to my tent and rummaged for all the scraps of paper I’d managed to take with me from the Keep. There had to be something to clue me into what may lay ahead with this whole Archdemon business. Then I got a visitor. 

“So, finally made a man out of him, eh?” Zevran asked as he casually stood outside my tent, sipping from a shiny metal flask. Ahh, now he had something to say. Of course. Why should I get anything productive done? 

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business, Zev.” I commented coolly as I continued rummaging.  
“Of course, of course. How he managed to keep you waiting for so long, though. It is beyond me. I would have dipped my stinger in your honey ages ago.” He hiccupped before taking another sip.  
I stopped and turned around to face him, keen on giving him a piece of my mind. “…Zevran, are you drunk?”  
“Of course I am drunk! The woman I love has given herself to another!” he cried melodramatically. 

I sighed and closed my eyes before massaging my temples. This was the last thing I needed. 

“Zevran, you don’t love me.” I explained objectively.  
“Oh, how do you know?” he pouted as he took another long drink from the flask.  
“Alright. What’s my father’s name?” I asked.  
“Err… Cousland, of course.”  
“First name.”  
“Uhhh… Byron?”  
“Strike one.” I called.  
“Bah, that was a trick question. Give me another one.”  
“Where am I from?”  
“Oh… uhhh… the Highlands, yes?”  
“Strike two.”  
“Oh come on, third time’s the charm.”  
“Alright, let’s try this one.” I closed my eyes. “What color are my eyes, Zev?”  
“Err… wait, I know this one! Brown?”  
I opened my eyelids and stared at him. “Green?! Oh that one was most unfair. What man in his right mind would look at your eyes when you have so many other… shapely qualities?”  
“Zevran, I consider you a friend. Don’t mess that up by being stupid.”  
He let out a big sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I do not have many of those, I confess.”

I almost felt bad for him. The way he’d been raised, the life he’d led, he didn’t seem to truly understand the concept of a friendly relationship with no strings attached. In his world, there always had to be a reward of some kind—monetary, sexual, whatever. I could see why he’d easily confuse… whatever he felt toward me for something that it wasn’t. The trick was getting him to realize it. 

“I know it’s hard to believe that someone could just like you as a person without the promise of…something more, but believe it or not, that’s what we have. It’s kind of freeing in a way, isn’t it? No pressure. No sonnets or courting or stupid games. We can just be us. What could be better than that?” I smiled.  
“You are a true diamond in the rough, Scarlett Cousland.” He smiled before grabbing my hand for a kiss. “Alistair is indeed a lucky man, but I suppose, so am I… to be able to call you a friend.” And with that, he left my tent. Woohoo! Crisis averted. And so, back to rummaging I went. 

“Looking for something in particular?” Alistair asked.  
“Well, hey stranger. Long time no see.” I smirked. “Not sick of me yet?”  
“Not even a little bit.” He sat down and gave me a quick kiss. “What are you up to?”  
“I have some… questions. About this whole being a Warden business. Was hoping to find some answers in those notes I took from Avernus.”  
“Well, I’m not all that knowledgeable but I’ll help however I can. Duncan did manage to pass on a few things.”  
“Hmm… okay, well, are you at all worried about our, err, recent activities? And what could result from them?” I asked.  
“Not sure I follow.”  
“Recall the talk with Wynne about where babies come from…”  
“Oh Maker have mercy, you heard that?!”  
I let out a slight giggle. “I did. I almost fell off my horse I was laughing so hard.”  
“You women are downright cruel, you know that? But to answer your question, no, no I’m not worried about that. It’s very difficult for Wardens to conceive. I guess it’s a side effect of the Joining.”  
“…It is? I… I had no idea.”  
“I suppose I didn’t really have reason to mention it before now. …Does it bother you? I thought you disliked children.”  
“Hey, I don’t inherently dislike children. I just… am not great with them. I can’t help it. And admittedly having a child was never all that high on my priority list, but I suppose when the option is taken away completely it’s… a little jarring.” 

Although I had always struggled to break the mold my parents had tried to fit me into, it was still widely understood that women have two lots in life—find a husband and have children. Now that I no longer could I suddenly felt… a little bit worthless. I know it was probably a stupid thing to think, but I couldn’t help it. 

“Well, we don’t know that’s it’s truly impossible. I mean, most Wardens only live about three decades max after their Calling, and then we met a man who had lived for centuries. Nothing is set in stone.” He smiled softly.  
“So, to recap, we likely won’t live past 50 before being murdered by the very creatures we’ve spent our entire lives fighting, we’ll be plagued with nightmares every night from here to eternity, and we’ll likely never know the joys of parenthood. Any other perks I should be aware of?”  
“None that I’m aware of, no. I’m sorry. When you list them like that… it really sounds rather grim.” He frowned.  
“Well, despite all that…” I found his hands and laced my fingers with his, “being a Grey Warden led me to you. I’d undergo the Joining again in a heartbeat.” I smiled. He gave me a soft kiss.  
“How do you always know just what to say?” he smiled softly back.  
“Oh, I don’t. Trust me. My mouth has gotten me into plenty of trouble. It’s usually why I choose to remain silent most of the time.”  
“But it’s your mouth… that hypnotizes me…” he whispered as he leaned in for another kiss, a slow, tender brush of lips.  
“You’d better get out of here or I’ll never get anything done.” I smirked.  
He let out a slight chuckle. “Alright. You know where I am if you need me.”  
“Oh, I’ll need you before the night is through. Trust me.”  
“Can’t wait.” He wiggled his eyebrows before leaving my tent. I just smiled and shook my head. His silliness was so damn endearing. 

Well, those things were good to know, but he didn’t answer the questions I now had burning in the back of my mind since my talk with Morrigan. I gathered the notes up, put my glasses on, lit a lantern and dove in to hopefully uncover something useful. 

Then I heard footsteps approach. Again.  
“Scarlett? May I come in?” Wynne asked.  
I slammed the papers down in frustration. “Sure, Wynne. Knock yourself out.”  
“More studying?” she inquired.  
I nodded. “For real this time, heh. What do you need?”  
“Well, I was hoping we might talk…You two are quite taken with each other, aren’t you?”  
“You’ve noticed…” I offered dryly.  
“It’s hard not to notice the doe-eyed looks he gives you, especially when he thinks no one’s watching. It’s almost too sweet for my tastes, and I’m an old lady who should be making lace hearts and fuzzy blankets with animal motifs.”  
“Oh you’re far from your average old lady.” I smiled.  
“True, I won’t be making socks with pom-poms for you anytime soon, but that’s hardly my point.”  
“Well, feel free to make it anytime then.”  
“I’ve noticed your blossoming relationship, and I wanted to ask where you thought it was going.”  
“…Why do you ask?” I posed with an arched brow.  
“Alistair is a fine lad, skilled in battle, but inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart. I would hate to see him get hurt.”  
“And you’re thinking I can’t wait to chew him up and spit him back out, is that it? That he’s nothing more than some notch in my belt?” Okay, I admit, I was feeling a bit defensive now. Alistair’s and my future was uncertain at best, doomed at worst. When I agreed to fight this damn Blight, I hadn’t accounted for this. I hadn’t counted on being happy. And now everyone seemed to want to rake me over the coals for it. It wasn’t fair. Doesn’t everyone deserve a chance at happiness, however fleeting that chance may be? 

“I do not believe you would hurt him intentionally, no. But there is great potential for tragedy here, for one or both of you. You are both Grey Wardens, and he is the son of a king.”  
“I’m well aware, Wynne. Do you honestly think I haven’t considered all that? That I haven’t approached this whole blasted situation from every possible angle? I’ve weighed the pros and cons. I’ve torn myself up about this over and over and over again. I tried to take the high road and it was miserable. You remember that?” I asked.  
She nodded. “I do. And I did hate to see you so distraught. But you have responsibilities which supersede your personal desires, Scarlett. Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may occupy one’s heart to the exclusion of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else. Then what will you do?”  
“Andraste’s blood, why does everyone keep saying that? Do you all know something I don’t, because if so, now is the fucking time to speak up!” I snapped.  
“Language!” Wynne scolded. “Look, nothing is certain—not in these times. You cannot take anything for granted. I want you to be aware of this.”  
“Message received, Wynne. Loud and clear. Now please leave me alone.” I demanded coldly.  
“As you wish.” 

Oh I was beyond seething. Great. How in the Maker’s name was I going to concentrate now? The more I thought about her words, the more miserable I became. I expected this from Morrigan, but Wynne? The gentle, nurturing old lady who was so quick to give out warm hugs and wash your dog and tell you she’s proud of you when you want to do nothing more than give up? Coming from her, it cut me a whole lot deeper. Before long, my anger gave way to melancholy. Maybe I was being selfish. The fate of the world hangs in the balance and I’m spending my time dallying about with a boy. But what Alistair and I have… it’s become so much more than that. Just the thought of letting him go… it made my heart feel so heavy I could barely breathe. I felt so lost. So confused. I brought my knees up and held them tightly to my chest and for once I skipped the repression and the brooding and I just… I began to cry. A lot. 

_“What did you do to her?!”_ I heard a slightly muffled Alistair shout outside my tent. Oh no…  
_“Do? I did not do anything. And I would suggest you watch your tone, young man.”_  
_“You pay her a visit and not five minutes after you leave she starts sobbing uncontrollably? Something doesn’t add up, Wynne.”_  
_“I simply told her what she needed to hear, Alistair. Nothing more, nothing less. Duty and love can seldom go hand in hand. I want her to be prepared.”_  
_“Look, I respect you, Wynne. And I appreciate that with age comes wisdom. But do me this favor: The next time you feel overcome with the urge to share some of that sage advice of yours, keep it to yourself.”_

I didn’t hear anything more after that. Oh Maker, what a mess. The very last thing I wanted was for my romantic relationship to drive a wedge between us and the rest of our companions. Maybe all of this was a mistake. Maybe happiness was a luxury I just couldn’t afford. Maybe—

“I know what you’re thinking, Scarlett Cousland.” Alistair asserted as he entered my tent.  
I removed my glasses and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “No, you don’t.” I sniffled.  
“Listen to me,” he sat down in front of me and enveloped my hands in his before finding my eyes, “there is nothing wrong about what we have, do you hear me? I daresay what we have is the only thing that’s right in this Maker-forsaken world.”  
“But it’s so very selfish, Alistair. What if—”  
“I’m going to stop you right there. We’ve been down this road before, remember? Despite all the twists and turns and detours, all roads always lead to the same place—each other. We’re in this now. Together. Even if I were to die tomorrow, I would accept my fate with a smile because I’d know you’d be there at my side. I would rather have one breath of your hair, one kiss from your lips, than go on living an empty life without it. I love you, Scarlett. And that is worth risking everything. Promise me, right here and right now, no more running away from this. No more running away from us.”

I found my resolve burning bright in those hazel eyes staring lovingly back into mine. He was right. I couldn’t give him up any more than I could give up breathing. He was a part of me now—body and soul. There was no undoing that. Not anymore.

I swallowed my tears and nodded slowly. “I promise. I’ll never run away from you again.”


	26. An Icy Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett and her companions have arrived in Haven, but they receive anything but a warm welcome. As they explore the town, evidence suggests something foul and dastardly awaits anyone who dares trespass there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, comments and kudos are most appreciated.

When we arrived at Haven, well, we received anything but a warm welcome—literally and figuratively. In addition to the sub-zero temperatures, the lone guard standing near the village entrance basically told us to leave immediately or else. So, that’s always a good sign. Not to mention tensions were still running high amongst the rest of my companions. Alistair was still pissed at Wynne for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong—and if I’m being completely honest, I was still a bit peeved at her as well. Morrigan still regarded me a fool for falling in love in the first place, so her demeanor toward me was even frostier than usual, and Sten, well, somehow I could almost see the anger and resentment radiating off of him. He’d been that way for going on a week now. I just… didn’t know what to do. Do I confront him? Do I let him work whatever it is out on his own? I was good at most puzzles but that Qunari was one enigma I just could not unravel. 

And then he spoke for the first time in days. 

“Interesting strategy. Tell me, do you intend to keep going north until it becomes south, and attack the Archdemon from the rear?”  
“Damnit, Sten, you’ve uncovered my master plan! I was trying to keep the element of surprise, but I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now. Yes, that is exactly what I’m doing. The Archdemon will never see it coming.” Alright, maybe not the ideal time for sarcasm; I just couldn’t help it.  
“Truly. It would surprise me if my enemy counterattacked by running away and climbing a mountain.” Ah, so that’s what the silent treatment was about—he disagreed with my decision to come to Haven. Color me surprised. Sten was almost always in my corner when it comes to my leadership decisions… NOT.  
“We’re not running away from anything.” I growled through gritted teeth. I tried to stay objective but Maker help me that Qunari could get my blood boiling like no other. Breathe, Scarlett. Breathe.  
“The Archdemon is our goal, and we are heading away from it to find the charred remnants of a dead woman. I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle.”  
“Well, you’re more than welcome to leave.” I offered dispassionately. “Somehow, some way, the rest of us poor, defenseless souls will manage to muddle along without you.”  
“I will do no such thing. I’m taking command.” 

Seriously? A damn coup? You’ve got to be kidding me. Granted, I was most hesitant to be at the helm of this expedition in the beginning, but as time passed I sort of grew accustomed to my role. I cared for each and every person I was traveling with, and although Sten would likely disagree, that was worth something. Having that trust, knowing the person beside you has your back—it helps keep us all in one piece. Sometimes distancing yourself from emotion can be a good thing, but ignoring all emotion completely as Sten so often tended to do… well, it can lead to some disastrous results. I simply would not allow it. Not while blood was still pumping through my veins. 

I let out a bitter laugh and looked the brown warrior dead in the eyes. “Just try it.”  
“Scarlett…” Alistair warned, hand on the hilt of his sword and ready to defend me at a moment’s notice.  
“Hush. This has been a long time coming.” I shot back, never breaking eye contact with the Qunari.  
“Defend yourself, Warden,” Sten ordered. “We will settle this.” 

He unsheathed his sword and I did the same as we began circling one another like ravenous sharks. I realize I probably wasn’t setting the best example for everyone else—give peace a chance and all that nonsense—but I was honestly beyond the point of caring. Barring the last several days where he opted for the silence, there was hardly a day that went by without some judgmental remark about my being a woman doing a man’s job. I could never make a decision without his disapproving glares and wry condemnation. I was sick to death of it. Some things just need to be settled the old-fashioned way, and if combat was the only language a brutish barbarian like him could understand, so fucking be it. 

He had reach, but I had flexibility. Although I certainly wouldn’t consider myself especially light on my feet, compared to Sten I was a damn ballerina. I could see every move he attempted to make, every blow he attempted to land coming a mile away. He lunged and I dodged. He attempted to strike and I parried. It was getting old fast. I decided the direct approach would be best here—you know what they say, ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ I didn’t want to hurt him, not permanently, so I dropped down and struck him low and struck him hard at the knees with the broad side of my sword. Although he did manage to slice my arm a bit on the way down, down he stayed as the tip of my sword remained aimed at his throat. Well, that was over quicker than I thought. Bully for me. 

“Do you yield?!” I asked in so regal, so commanding a tone that I didn’t even recognize my own voice.  
“I… I was wrong. You are strong enough. What now?” he said the words so vacantly, as though what had just transpired were a casual walk in the park. I will never understand him, I swear it.  
“‘What now?’ Now you stop questioning me at every turn. Now you stop belittling me because I’m a woman. Now you respect my authority and get back in line. Do we understand each other?”  
“…As you wish.” was his only reply.

I sheathed my sword and offered him a hand up which, much to my surprise, he took. When I looked back at everyone else, I saw their demeanor shift from worried and alert to utterly relieved. Almost all of them had their hands on their weapons, ready to intervene if things went too far. It was sweet, really. Like I said, despite all the petty bullshit, deep down, they still had my back. 

“Well, now that we’re done with all that unpleasantness, do you think we can expect the villagers to roll out welcome wagon?” I smirked as I wrapped a bandage around my cut. Hey, I had to ease the tension somehow. Dry humor is a girl’s best friend.  
“The way that guard spoke… they are hiding something. ‘Tis obvious, is it not?” Morrigan posed.  
“Ah, quiet, insular communities. There’s always something nasty going on behind closed doors.” Zevran commented.  
Wynne let out a tired sigh. “You always think there’s something nasty going on behind closed doors.”  
“That’s because there often is…” he paused. “I hope it involves chains... I hope they ask me to join in.” Zevran grinned. 

I let a slight smile play across my lips and shook my head. There was a certain level of ridiculous about that elf, but today I was happy for whatever levity I could find. Something… dastardly awaited us in this village; of that I had no doubt. It was doing nothing for my mood. 

We walked further into the village and Alistair grabbed my arm tightly but subtly as we walked, clearly displeased with my actions. 

“That was a stupid thing to do, you know that? You could have seriously gotten hurt.” he chided in a low whisper. 

I stopped dead, grabbed his face in my hands and pulled him in for a huge, loud, face-sucking kiss. “Alistair, pumpkin, baby, puddin’ pie, you worry too much. This is why those little gray hairs of yours keep coming in.” I teased. He just stared at me, awe-struck. I opted to just keep on walking. He and I—we weren’t usually big on public displays of affection. I was shy by nature and although Alistair is usually very outgoing, anything involving romance seemed to embarrass him—at least in front of an audience. But you know what? After being torn in so many directions and trying to bend over backwards to appease everyone else’s whims and desires and hissy fits, I was fresh out of fucks to give. If I wanted to flaunt my relationship, I was going to do it. If I wanted to take a slight detour to fetch ‘the charred remnants of some dead woman,’ as Sten so eloquently put it, I was going to do that, too. They want me to be a real leader? Then that’s exactly what they’re going to get—consequences be damned. Democracy is so overrated. 

“I… I can’t believe you just did that while everyone was watching. And ‘puddin’ pie’? Are you kidding me?” Alistair didn’t even bother whispering now.  
“Oh do not even pretend you don’t love my little terms of endearment, snookums. We both know the truth—you can’t get enough of them.” 

He facepalmed so hard I could hear his hand slap against his forehead. I let out a slight chuckle. 

“Scarlett?” he asked after a short pause.  
“Hmm?”  
“…Am I really going gray?”  
I just rolled my eyes and shook my head.  
“Am I?!” he demanded to know. 

I chose not to dignify the question with a response. Him and that damn hair obsession. Oy. 

Before long we stumbled upon a small house with its door slightly ajar. Interesting. I did lightly knock but there was no answer so I decided to just walk on in. Something weird was going on—maybe an inside look would provide some clues as to what exactly that was. 

The house was run down and empty, save for an altar completely covered in blood. Yep, weird status: confirmed.

“I was not expecting to find something so… unsettling.” Leliana commented.  
“Used for… food preparation, perhaps?” Alistair asked.  
“I don’t think meat bleeds quite that much.” I explained.  
“I’m just trying to be optimistic. The other explanation is slightly more disturbing.”  
“That is human blood.” Morrigan confirmed.  
“…How do you know?” I asked reluctantly, although I probably didn’t really want to know the answer.  
“I just do. I also know that no one can lose that much blood… and live.”  
“Okay, sufficiently creeped out now. Let’s move on. Perhaps that shop that the guard alluded to will have some answers.” I suggested. 

The shop was almost completely vacant, sans a very uneasy and tense shopkeeper—he was pacing and wringing his hands and muttering to himself. Before we got within earshot, I leaned over and whispered to Leliana, “There’s a back room over there. Do a little reconnaissance while I distract Mr. Fidgety over there, got it?” She gave me the slightest of nods before disappearing almost completely. I don’t know how she always managed to do stuff like that but boy did it come in handy. 

“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled my brightest smile.  
“Who are you?” he asked nervously. “You’re not from Haven.”  
“You’re right. I’m not. And everyone seems to enjoy pointing it out to me at every turn.” I ran my fingers through my hair to undo my braid and shook my head a bit to give myself that sexy, sort of disheveled look. Yes, I really am usually shy, but I have learned to overcome my shyness in order to get things done. This was one such occasion. “Why is my presence so shocking, I wonder… You look like a bright lad—and handsome to boot. Any thoughts?”  
“W-we uh… we don’t get many visitors.”  
“I see… I find it hard to believe that a young man such as yourself isn’t constantly entertaining visitors.”  
“…What sort of visitors?”  
“You know… of the female persuasion. Back where I’m from you’d have to beat them away with a broom.” I smirked and twirled my hair in my fingers as I watched him get more and more frazzled. “Could you tell me a bit about Haven? I find it fascinating.” I batted my eyelashes and gave him my absolute and undivided attention.  
“I… uh…” he gave me a crooked smile. “I mean, how would you describe the place you know only as home?” Damnit. Really? That’s all he was giving me to go on?  
“Surely you could think of something we could talk about…” I leaned in closer and bit my lip teasingly. “I’m actually here visiting my uncle—a man named Genitivi. Does that name ring any sort of bell?”  
“No. I’ve never heard that name.” Ugh. Either this guy was completely dense or completely immune to my so-called charms. Just my luck. 

I glanced over at the back room and saw Leliana crawling out of it and making her way back toward us. 

“Well, I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your valuable time. Good day.”  
“W-wait a minute!” he called as we turned around to leave. Uh oh. Did he spot her? Keep calm, Scarlett. Keep calm.  
“…Yes?” I asked coolly.  
“Don’t you want to… see what goods I have to offer?” he asked suggestively. Oh… maybe not as dense as I initially suspected. I bit my lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.  
“Another time, perhaps.” I winked. And out we all walked. 

“Well?” I asked Leliana as I rebraided my hair.  
“There… there was a body back there. One of Redcliffe’s knights.”  
“Shit. What in the Maker’s name is going on here?”  
“Whatever it is, it’s definitely not good. And did you have to lay it on quite so thick in there? Geez.” Alistair whined.  
“Aww, baby,” I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “I only have eyes for you.” I grinned.  
“You’re really not going to stop with the pet names, are you?” he groaned. “I think they’re starting to make my physically ill now. I feel achy.”  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I paused, “Honeybunch.” He gave me a slight chuckle and shook his head. 

As we continued our way up the path we came upon what I assumed was the village’s chantry. We could hear the occupants singing the chant of light from within, only I barely recognized it. Instead of hearing something that was supposed to sound joyous and peaceful, it sounded ominous and displaced. Ugh, I so didn’t like this. 

Upon entering we saw a male priest—I know, I thought it was weird, too—surrounded by a modest but devout congregation. 

“We are blessed beyond measure. We are chosen by the holy and beloved to be her guardians. This sacred duty is given to us alone. Rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive her. Lift up your voices and despair not, for she will raise her faithful servants to glory when her—” he furrowed his brow and grimaced as though he suddenly bit into something rotten as soon as he spotted us. “I understand that you are new here, but common courtesy dictates that one shouldn’t interrupt. No matter. We were just about done here anyway.”

“But Your Reverence! We have not completed the sacraments of the holy mother…or or sung the invocation!” one manic devotee griped. 

“Be calm. We have an honored guest. Surely the sacraments can wait. That is all for today, my children. I shall see you tomorrow. For now, I should see to our visitor.” He concluded. 

Something about the way he said that definitely was not sitting right with me. Still, he was a holy man. Surely he didn’t wish his guests any ill will. Yeah. Right. 

“There was no need to end the sermon on our account.” I explained.  
“It is better this way. Many of the villagers are… uncomfortable in the presence of strangers.” He assured me.  
“Yes, I’ve noticed… Okay, I’ll get right to it. Is there a man named Genitivi here?”  
“We find the presence of… outsiders… disruptive. They bring others, and before long, Haven is changed. We will go to any lengths to prevent that. You understand a man’s need to protect his family, don’t you?”  
“Well, I—”  
“Brothers! You know what must be done.” He cried. And then the guards attacked us. 

Really? Just because I asked a freaking question? Damnit, Scarlett. Your inquisitive nature has screwed us yet again. 

There weren’t many soldiers in the chantry, but they came at us with every ounce of strength they could muster. Up ‘til now we’d faced many a formidable adversary, but when a foe is driven by blind, unyielding faith—there is nothing more powerful or more dangerous than that. Life itself becomes a triviality because they are devoted to a cause that goes beyond it. And don’t ask me where they came from, but dragonlings—yeah, you read that right, baby dragons—joined in the assault. Was the priest really keeping them around just in case an occasion such as this arose? Honestly, who does that?! 

“I do not know if the Maker exists, but it would be better for His reputation if he didn’t.” I asserted after the last of them fell.  
“Men never commit evil so fully and joyfully as when they do it for religious convictions.” Morrigan posed.  
“That’s unfair. So much good is done in the Maker’s name. Why let the few rotten apples spoil the whole bunch? Do neither of you believe in Him?” Leliana asked.  
“Certainly not. I've no primitive fear of the moon such that I must place my faith in tales so that I may sleep at night.” Morrigan answered. 

I wasn’t going anywhere near this one if I could avoid it. Did I believe in the Maker beyond the shadow of a doubt? No. Did I vehemently deny His existence? No. Call me crazy, but I just don’t believe Leliana or Morrigan would accept the agnostic/ambivalent approach. Staying out of it was likely my best bet to walk away unscathed. 

“But this can’t all be an accident. Spirits, magic, all these wondrous things around us both dark and light. You know these things exist.” Leliana reasoned.  
“The fact of their existence does not presuppose an intelligent design by some absentee father-figure.”  
“So it is all random, then? A happy coincidence that we are all here?”  
“Attempting to impose order over chaos is futile. Nature is, by its very nature, chaotic.”  
“I don’t believe that. I believe we have a purpose. All of us.”  
“Yours, apparently being to bother me.” Morrigan deadpanned.  
“Ladies, I’m all too happy to listen to your exceedingly engaging theistic debate, but perhaps another time. We still need to find Genitivi. I just pray we’re not too late and he’s still alive.”  
“Yes, you do that, Scarlett. See how far your prayers get you.” Morrigan rolled her eyes.  
“It’s an expression, Morrigan. Feel free to get off that soapbox of yours anytime now.”  
“You have such an odd manner of speaking at times.” Morrigan observed for the hundredth time.  
I let out a big sigh. “Yeah yeah yeah.” I looked around the room to find Alistair missing. “Where did Alistair disappear to?”  
“He looked a bit sallow ever since we found that altar. I offered to help him but…” Wynne explained, a sad expression in her eyes. She had grown to care a great deal for Alistair, that much had become clear. Their current dissonance was a weight on her heart, but no one other than she herself could remove that burden. 

“Alistair?” I called.  
“Over here.” He quietly groaned. I still didn’t see him.  
“…Where?” 

He waved his hand over a pew toward the back of the chantry. I walked over to him to investigate. He was on his knees on the floor, his skin clammy, his face ashen. 

“What’s going on?” I asked gently as I moved to kneel down beside him.  
“Don’t… don’t get too close. It’s not pleasant.” Ah. He’d gotten sick all over the floor. Poor thing.  
“What’s… what’s wrong? Was it seeing all that blood from the altar before?”  
“No, no it’s not that. I’m fine. Really.” I rested the back of my hand against his forehead.  
“Oh sweetie, you’re burning up. What on earth brought this on? You seemed fine this morning.”  
“I was fine this morning. I don’t know where in the Maker’s name this came from. But really. I’ll be okay. We need to find Genitivi.”  
“You’re not going to find anything but a bed, young man.”  
“As long as you’re in it, I’m there.” He gave me a half smile.  
“I meant to rest, you insatiable little lecher.” I smirked.  
“Bah. Where’s the fun in that?”  
“Come on.” I leaned down to wrap his arm over my shoulder and bring him to his feet. “Up we go.”  
“Wait wait. At least take a look around this place before we leave. There’s bound to be some clue as to Genitivi’s whereabouts.”  
“Your welfare means more to me than anything.” As soon as the last word escaped my mouth I knew I shouldn’t have said it aloud. Wynne heard me. Morrigan heard me. And what I’d just said proved them both right—that when you get right down to it, I would put my love above my duty. Fuck.  
“Scarlett, I promise. I’ll be fine while you take a look. I’ll just sit here on this pew.” He moved to sit down and rested his hands on his lap, taking great care to show me he would do absolutely nothing to worsen his situation. “See?”  
I nodded. “Okay, we’ll take a quick look. Just… don’t hesitate to call if you need me, alright?” I kissed the top of his head as he nodded in assent. 

“Will the little prince live for now? I have perhaps found something of interest.” Morrigan asked.  
“For now. What is it?” 

She produced a very large bronze medallion bearing the symbol of Andraste. 

“I found it on the priest’s corpse.”  
“Interesting.” I muttered as I examined the piece of metal.  
“Oooh it’s so… shiny. May I have it?” Zevran asked as he reached to snatch it out of my hands.  
“Absolutely not!” I put the medallion around my neck and down the front of my armor. “We might have use for it. I swear, Zevran. Were you a magpie in another life?”  
“Hanging it between your heaving bosoms is most assuredly the opposite of a deterrent—it serves only to make the item more tantalizing.”  
“Focus. Let’s keep our eye on the prize, Zev.”  
“Oh, I am. Two of them, in fact.” 

I slapped his face. Even though he couldn’t even see the outline of my breasts in my armor… it was the principle of the thing.

“Oooh you know I like the rough stuff.” he grinned. Maker's breath. I just could not win with him.  
“Have we found anything else so far?” I asked.  
“This wall.” Leliana called from across the room.  
“What about it?” I asked as I made my way over to her.  
“Look around you, Scarlett. One of these things is not like the others.” 

She was right. The rest of the chantry bricks were aligned and stained one color, while this particular wall was misaligned and a few shades lighter. I knocked on the wall beside it and didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. When I knocked on the different wall, it felt… well, shallow. Something was definitely behind it. 

“Nice work, Leliana. Sten, would you do the honors? Let’s continue to work through that aggression of yours in a healthy way.” I smirked. 

He stood in front of the wall and bashed it in with little effort. Within the secret room we saw a man collapsed on the floor. I ran to his side and knelt down beside him. 

“Who… who are you? They sent you to finish it?” He asked.  
“Brother Genitivi?” I asked.  
“You’re… you’re not one of them, thank the Maker.”  
“I read your notes, back in Denerim. That’s how we knew to come looking for you here.” I explained.  
“So it seems. They take great pains to keep it well hidden. I—” He let out a groan of anguish. “The leg’s not doing so well and… I can’t feel my foot.”  
“Wynne, can you help him?” I asked.  
“I can set the leg and ease some of the pain, but he’ll need a lot of rest in order to heal.” She assessed.  
“I don’t have time to rest now.” He insisted. “I’m so close. The urn is just up that mountain.”  
“Are you insane or merely delusional?” I asked. “You’re hurt.”  
“Broken ribs be cursed. I’m not abandoning decades of research!”  
“Listen to me,” I began with stern sincerity, “We need to find those ashes to help a dying man. I swear to you and the Maker Himself I will tell you every single detail of what we discover, but I cannot, in good conscience, consent to an old, broken man climbing a mountain and facing ancient and unknown perils because of foolish pride. Please, be a help instead of a hindrance. Let us do this for you. Help us find them.” 

He hung his head in resignation. 

“Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the urn. There is an old temple there built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know what the key is.”  
“Go on.” I coaxed.  
“Eirik wears a medallion that opens the temple door. I’ve seen what he does with it.” 

I felt around my neck for the chain but there was none to be found. Where did it… Oh. For the love of…

“Zevran!” I groaned.  
He let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. Here.”

I hastily grabbed it from his greedy little hands. 

“This medallion?” I asked.  
“Yes,” Genitivi nodded. “That is your key. That will allow you to gain entry to the temple.” He let out a frustrated moan. “I should be going with you. This is my life’s work!”  
“I know. And I’m so sorry. I will find you in Denerim. I swear it.”  
He let out a heaving sigh. “I suppose I will just have to trust you. Please. Do not let me down.”  
“I won’t. Come on. Let’s head out. You can stay under our protection for the night. We leave for the temple at first light.” 

Sten scooped the old man up as though he were light as a feather and we made our way back to the chantry doors.  
“You… you found him? Alive?! Maker be praised!” Alistair tried to smile but he was looking worse and worse by the minute.  
“Alive, but not well. Looks like you two can keep each other company until you’re feeling better. Perhaps you can form a secret club for the infirm or something.” I smirked.  
“Over my dead body! There is no way you are going after those ashes without me, Scarlett Cousland.” Alistair protested.  
“I said the same thing, lad. It’s useless to argue with her.” Genitivi explained.  
“Amazing. He met you not five minutes ago and already knows you’re stubborn as a mule.”  
“Perhaps we should postpone this little lovers’ quarrel.” Morrigan asserted.  
“Why? Not having fun yet?” I asked bitterly.  
“Because there is a horde of angry villagers about to storm these very doors.”


	27. Perchance to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jig is up, and the inhabitants of Haven do not take kindly to outsiders. Scarlett tries everything to spare as many as she can, but the people remain blindly devoted and completely undeterred. And the cost is almost too much for Scarlett to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things take a bit of a dark turn this chapter. Can't wait to hear your thoughts! Disclaimer: I did not write the lullaby. Again, just thought the song fit nicely with the story. Thanks!

I ran to the nearest stained glass window to take a peek. The entire village populace, battering ram and all, was indeed headed right for us. Oh, this was so not good. 

Think, Scarlett. Think. What in the Maker’s name was I going to do?! Time. I needed to buy some time. 

“Sten, bar the door. Leliana, Zev, knock your arrows. Morrigan, Wynne, to the back of the chantry; I need you to cover us.”  
“What do you want me to do?” Alistair asked, still looking a decidedly unhealthy gray color everywhere but his cheeks, which were rosy with fever.  
“Protect him.” I ordered as I gestured toward Genitivi. I expected him to argue, to accuse me of demoting him to nothing more than a babysitter, but no argument came. He really must have been feeling shitty. “Can you make it back to that room where we found him?”  
“I… I think so.” Alistair affirmed.  
“Come on, lad. We’ll prop each other up along the way.” Genitivi offered.  
“Go. Now!” I shouted. Then, in a softer tone, I whispered, “Meatball, I need you to keep Alistair safe. Can you do that boy?”  
He gave me a bark in the affirmative.

Genitivi and Alistair locked arms and made their way to the back room, Meatball at their backs. Then the panic started setting in. I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t possibly fight these people. These weren’t soldiers. These were everyday men, simple folk—farmers, smiths, potters—and women and children were among the mob. I had to try to talk them down. I had to fix this. 

I looked around to see if there was any possible way for me to get through to them. No fucking way could I open those doors—not without getting trampled to death. I needed somewhere I could be seen and heard. Somewhere far above the rabble. Then I spied a set of stairs that led up to the bell tower. Bingo. I ran toward them as fast as I could. 

“Where in the Maker’s name do you think you’re going?!” Alistair shouted.  
“I have to get through to them. Make them see reason.”  
“Hello! Do you remember what we saw on that altar?! These people are very obviously nuttier than a bag of squirrels. And even if they could be reasoned with before, all hope of that went out the window when we killed that priest, Scarlett.” He countered.  
“I have to try, Alistair. I will not doom entire families to slaughter unless I’ve exhausted every possible alternative. Now get in that room and stay there!” I demanded as I ran up the stairs. 

I slowly approached the ledge of the tower, pulling the rope once to ring the bell and get the mob’s attention. They all stared up at me simultaneously, their eyes dull and glossed over, their weapons now pointed directly at yours truly. I couldn’t let that little inconvenience get in the way. I yelled down to them at the top of my voice. 

“PEOPLE OF HAVEN! PLEASE, LISTEN TO ME! WE MEAN YOU NO ILL WILL! LOWER YOUR ARMS AND NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU! I SWEAR IN THE NAME OF—”

And then I took an arrow to the shoulder and almost lost my footing. Thank the Maker I was still holding onto that rope. Not sure if you’ve ever had an arrow pierce through your flesh and bone, but it’s really, really unpleasant. Would not recommend. And then the villagers went back to the business of busting down those huge double doors leading into the chantry. As I looked over at the thin piece of wood still lodged in my body, I heard a thunderous smash as the front doors were reduced to nothing more than splinters—apparently the battering ram had finally finished the job. Fanfreakintastic. I would’ve preferred to have Wynne remove the arrow but there was no time. I gritted my teeth and with a loud grunt I pulled it out myself. It was bleeding like a sieve but I barely noticed. I just started running. I had to get down there. I had to help. 

The villagers of Haven were behaving like rabid dogs who had just been let off their leash, but I never stopped trying. I never stopped talking. I never stopped pleading. 

“Please!” I cried as I ran my sword through the belly of a blacksmith after he’d begun branding me with a hot poker, his skin burned and calloused from the forge. 

“Stop this madness!” I begged as a man who I presumed to be a butcher (he was wearing an apron covered in blood) ran at me full force while wielding a cleaver. I bent over and he rolled off my back. “Stay down.” I warned as my sword was pointed down at his chest. He didn’t care. He sat up and lunged at me with the cleaver anyway, despite the fact that my sword was now wedged deeply into his sternum.

“You don’t have to do this!” I insisted, my voice thick with tears as I decapitated a pitchfork-wielding laundry maid after she’d punctured my thigh and then my stomach. Holy fuck did that one hurt. No time to worry about that now. I had to keep going. I had to put a stop to this, one way or another. 

It was no use. They just kept coming with the same mercilessness, the same blind ferocity. 

Then I saw a little child coming toward me. She didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. Maybe she’d listened to me! Maker, if I had gotten through to even one of them it would have at least been some slight consolation. 

Once she got close enough she pulled something out from under her shirt and before I could even comprehend what was happening there was an explosion so loud and so blinding I wasn’t even sure I’d survived it at first. The power of the blast literally sent me flying into the air—I was a good five or six feet away from where I’d previously been standing. When the smoke cleared, the child was gone. Correction: The child as a whole was gone—only pieces of her remained scattered across the chantry floor. I closed my eyes and refused to let the horror get the best of me. My people—they were all that mattered. I had to find them. The ringing in my ears was so loud I couldn’t hear my own voice when I shouted to see if anyone else was alive. Although the explosion took out what remained of the villagers, I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach that not all of my companions made it out unscathed. 

I began crawling toward the back of the chantry down the center aisle now littered with disembodied limbs and severed heads, looking between each pew, expecting to see the worst had come to pass. 

“Hello?” I croaked, the smoke still sitting heavy in my lungs. “Anyone?” 

I kept crawling forward, frantically scanning the room for any and all signs of life. 

“HELLO?!” I shouted louder. Hey, I was actually starting to be able to hear myself again. Great.

Then I heard a low groan to my left and saw a toppled over pew crushing Zevran’s form. 

“Zev! Are you alright?!” I asked as I crawled over to him.  
“Ugh. When I said I like the rough stuff, this is not exactly what I had in mind.” 

I let a soft smile play across my lips. I had never been so happy to hear one of his stupid jokes in all my life. 

“Okay, let’s get this thing off of you. Are you ready?” I asked as a I lifted myself up so I was sitting on my knees and placed my hands on the top of the pew. It hurt like a demon but I didn’t care; I had to free him.  
“Yes, on three.”  
“One,” we began in unison, “Two. Three!” We both pushed with all our might and the pew went flying.  
“Ahhh, much better. The ability to breathe is so underrated.” He mused. I just winced. Moving that pew was a really bad idea in retrospect—my stomach was bleeding even worse now, the pain much more intense. “Scarlett, you are bleeding.”  
“I’ll live. I need to find the others. Can you move? Is anything broken?”  
“Some bruises and scratches here and there. Nothing I cannot overcome.” 

I gave him a nod and continued crawling away. Zev got back up on his feet without too much trouble. 

“Please, my lady. Take my hand. Let me help you.”  
“I… I’m not sure I can stand, Zev. Taking a pitchfork to the stomach isn’t all that conducive to being bipedal.”  
He let out a slight chuckle. “Only you would still use words like ‘bipedal’ while suffering a great loss of blood.”  
“It’s a gift.” I gave him the slightest of smiles. “Maybe we should split up. I’m not going to cover much ground like this. Please, help whoever you can find.”  
“It shall be done.” He promised, and off he went. 

I kept skulking my way down the aisle, one hand pressing against my stomach to try and stop the bleeding, silently praying to whoever would listen that I’d find more of them.  
“Scarlett!” Leliana called. “Oh thank the Maker you live. I had feared the worst when I heard that loud… BOOM.”  
“I’m alright, Leliana. Are you well?”  
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. One of the villagers had chased me up to the bell tower so I was far away from the blast. The Maker smiles upon me yet again.”  
“So it would seem.”  
“Why do you not stand?” she asked.  
“Oh I’m um… just catching my breath down here.” I explained. If she couldn’t see all the blood, then I didn’t want to alarm her.  
“Can you not see she is gravely wounded? For someone who claims to be blessed with visions from your precious Maker, your eyesight truly leaves something to be desired.”  
“Morrigan! Are you hurt?” I asked as I looked up at her from the ground.  
“I am fine. Unlike you. What are you playing at?”  
“I… I have to find the others.” I insisted.  
“You need a healer.” Morrigan ripped a piece of cloth from her garment—of which there was barely any to spare to begin with—and wrapped it around my waist. “We must stop this bleeding or you shall end up looking as pallid as Alistair.”  
“ALISTAIR!” I cried. Maker, in all this craziness I hadn’t even thought that he might be hurt somewhere. Or worse. I had to find him.  
“I’m here. Along with your mutt.” He groaned. I crawled toward his voice to that room he and Genitivi fled to. I was downright shocked to learn he’d actually stayed there. 

“Are… are you hurt?” I asked as I made my way to him.  
“No, my love. We’re fine.” He wrapped his arms around me and I let out a cry of pain.  
“What in the… Oh Scarlett, you’re bleeding! Where’s Wynne?!”  
“She is setting Sten’s broken arm, at the moment.” Zevran explained as he ran into the room to meet the rest of us. “I could see the bone sticking out of his forearm. There was so much blood and—”  
“Not helping, Zevran!” I yelled.  
“Right. Apologies. I’ll go get her.” 

“What caused that… boom?” Alistair asked as we waited.  
“A… a child. She… had some sort of… I don’t even know what to call it. Some sort of explosive device.”  
“A… child?” Alistair asked softly. I just nodded, fresh tears streaming down my face.  
“I have heard the dwarves have such devices.” Leliana explained. “I have also heard the Qunari have similar capabilities, but the former is far more likely. Orzammar is not so far from here.”  
“So much terror and devastation. Why? To what end?” I posed.  
“They call themselves the Disciples of Andraste,” Genitivi began, “and they are very, very devoted. One could say fanatically so.”  
“Gee, do ya think?” I rolled my eyes.  
“They must be here to protect the Urn but they spoke of Andraste as though… as though she were still alive.”  
“That makes no sense.” I countered. “Could they be talking about the ashes?”  
“I thought so at first but now… I’m not so sure.” Genitivi admitted. 

“Where is she?!” Wynne stormed into the room, frantic and harried.  
“I’m right here, Wynne.”  
“We need to get this armor off you immediately. I need to assess the damage.” 

I tried to tug my arm pieces off first. The left wasn’t so bad. The right though, where my shoulder was punctured, that was something else entirely. 

“I um… I might need some help with that.” I admitted shyly.  
“Alistair, perhaps you have grown accustomed to removing the lady’s armor?” Zevran asked.  
“Actually I’m… still rather new… at all that… Maker’s breath.” I couldn’t even bring myself to look up at him but I could tell he was beyond embarrassed.  
“Zevran, we all know you’re an expert at removing all manner of clothing. Just do it and stop posturing.” Wynne demanded.  
“This would be easier if you lie down on your back.” Zevran suggested. I was about to open my mouth to scold him but before I could get a word out he insisted, “That was not meant as some kind of intimation! Just, please. Lie down.” 

He grabbed my right arm and Alistair grabbed my left as they maneuvered me so I was on my back instead of on all fours. Moving still hurt, but it hurt less than when I’d tried to do it on my own. And wouldn’t you know it? Zevran had me out of that armor before you could finish saying “Andraste.” 

“Let’s see… your shoulder…” Wynne observed.  
“They shot me with an arrow when I was trying to talk some sense into them.”  
Alistair groaned. “I told you. I told you they couldn’t see reason. Why did you—”  
“Alistair, a child literally exploded before my eyes. In no fucking way do I regret the decision to make an attempt to prevent all this.” That shut him up effectively.  
“It seems as though you pulled the arrow out cleanly. It remained whole while you were pulling it out, yes?” I just nodded. “Whatever splinters remain, they will be forced out as you heal. Your left thigh…” Wynne observed next.  
“Yes she got me there but… it’s my stomach that really hurts. She stuck me good, it seems.”  
“With what?” Wynne inquired.  
“A pitchfork. A really big, sharp pitchfork.”

I tried to keep my breathing even as Wynne untied Morrigan’s blood-soaked cloth and lifted my shirt to expose the injury. Andraste’s blood, even the cold air itself stung the wound. Wynne examined me closely and pressed her hand firmly across different spots on my abdomen. Then she suddenly stopped. 

“Oh my…”  
“What, what is it?!” I asked, panic-stricken.  
“There’s a piece of the pitchfork still lodged in your stomach. I can feel it, but it’s not easily within reach. Alistair, take her hand. Zevran, whatever alcoholic concoction you have in that flask on your belt, give it to me and hold her shoulders down.”  
“W-why do I need to be restrained, Wynne?”  
“Leliana, I need clean dressings and water. Morrigan, when I say, be ready to cauterize the wound.” Oh, that was why I needed to be held down. This was going to suck. Really, really bad.

Zevran handed the flask over immediately and moved to pin me. Leliana returned quickly with the clean cloths and a bowl of water. Wynne washed around the wound as best she could before looking me in the eyes. 

“Scarlett, I will not lie to you. This is really going to hurt.” Wynne admitted.  
I nodded slowly, tears of pain and fear streaming silently down my face.  
“You are the bravest woman I know. Be brave for me now.” I nodded some more as I felt her begin to dig around for the piece of metal sunk into my abdomen. I writhed and cried out as I felt her go deeper and deeper into my open wound. At least with Flemeth I was unconscious for the really bad parts. This time I was wide awake and trying my damndest not to think about the fact that Wynne’s long and bony fingers were currently exploring the inner linings of my stomach. 

“You’re doing so very well. That’s it. Just breathe through the pain. That’s my girl.” Alistair whispered as he gave me his most reassuring smile and kissed my head. I was digging my nails into his hand so hard I think I began to draw blood, but he never said a word. He just kept smiling down at me, comforting me. Maker, do I love that man. 

“Aha! Got it!” And Wynne pulled out a metal prong that must have been a good eight inches long. My eyes grew wide as soon as I laid my eyes on it and I fought the urge to throw up. Alistair, unfortunately, lost the battle and quickly leaned away from me to get sick. Yeah, I’d imagine looking at a blood-drenched metal spike that was once deep inside your lover’s belly doesn’t help matters when you already have a volatile stomach. Then Wynne poured the contents of the flask into the wound and Andraste’s flaming sword did that burn! I let out a cry and took fast, shallow breaths. 

“Alright, Scarlett. Hard part’s over.” Wynne reassured me.  
“Liar.” I tried to smile through the pain.  
“Now, Morrigan!” Wynne called while I was still sort of distracted. Morrigan took the tip of her staff, now a glowing ember, and rested it gently across the wound. I screamed louder than I have ever screamed before. Zevran tried to hold me down with all his might but all my thrashing threw him. Sten stepped in at the last minute and despite all my attempts to break free, I couldn’t move. And then I passed out from the pain. 

…

When I awoke I found myself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling, lying in an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by unfamiliar walls and the crackling of an unfamiliar fireplace—the only recognizable thing was the throbbing ache of my seared flesh with every shallow breath I took. I guess we’d all moved out of the chantry and into one of the now vacant houses in the village. Then I felt a clammy, slightly trembling hand slip into mine. I turned to my left to see Alistair lying beside me—or perhaps it was the ghost of Alistair. His skin was white and drained, his eyes surrounded by dark circles, his lips dry and beginning to crack.

“Don’t worry, Wynne says whatever this is… it’s not contagious.”  
I gave him a slow smile. “It would take more than a little stomach bug to keep me from your side.” That earned me a wide smile. “Has your fever broken?”  
“Not yet… Wynne says if it doesn’t break in the next hour I have to hop in a bath full of ice. I’m really, really hoping it breaks before then.”  
“That does sound rather unpleasant. You know, it occurs to me that maybe wearing wet socks for an extended amount of time while it’s freezing outside might have something to do with your current predicament.” I smirked.  
“Hmm… I figured Morrigan had tried to poison me, but I suppose you might be onto something there. Ah well. Lesson learned. How are you feeling?”  
“About the same as you, I’d imagine: Like death warmed over.”  
“Well, I think you look radiant.” He gave me as bright a smile he could manage.  
“Hahaha, you lying liar!” I giggled as I hurled the accusation. Maker, even laughing hurt.  
“I am not! To anyone else I suppose you might look a bit… ashen… but to me you look absolutely lovely. They do say love is blind, after all.” He smirked.  
I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank the Maker for that. To think I look even remotely attractive right now you must be absolutely smitten.” I grinned.  
“You could say that.” He smirked. “I love you, Scarlett.” He said in all sincerity as his eyes found mine.  
“I love you, too.” I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. “Where is everyone?”

“Wynne is with Genitivi trying to set his leg. Morrigan is off trying to scare something up for supper. Everyone else is… burying the dead. Or what’s left of them.” 

It was then that the reality of everything hit me like a ton of bricks. Those poor people… people just trying to live their lives, people whose only crime had been allowing themselves to be led astray by an evil man hidden beneath a cloak of false righteousness… all gone. They’ll be buried and forgotten. It will be as though they’d never existed in the first place. And none of it would have happened if I hadn’t come knocking at their door. FUCK. 

“Scarlett…” Alistair called. “Are you… Why are you crying?” 

I hadn’t even realized it was happening. I seemed to cry at the drop of a hat these days. It really wasn’t like me—or at least, it wasn’t like the old me. I’ve changed a lot since Ostagar. Despite all the tragedy we faced day in and day out, despite all the horrors we witnessed on an almost constant basis, I was beginning to open up. I was allowing myself to feel again. I knew the man lying beside me was largely responsible for that. And I loved him all the more for it.

“All those people…” I whispered as hot tears streamed down my face.  
“They gave us no choice. You know that. You did everything you could.”  
“They’d all still be alive if it weren’t for us. That little girl would have grown up and had a life, had a future.”  
“If you could call this a life. She would have grown up rotten, just like the rest of them. I wish things could have gone differently but… this place… it’s wicked to its core. We did the right thing. I have no doubt of that.”  
I reached up and wiped my eyes. “I so envy that about you. You have such a clear sense of what you believe is right and wrong. I’ll never be that way. There are always so many angles to consider, so many what ifs and unknown variables. I just… think too much. I can’t help it.”  
“Perhaps that’s why we make such a good team.” He smiled. “You can be my forethought; I’ll be your clarity.”  
I ran my thumb across the back of his hand and gave him a slight smile. “Deal.”

“Finally awake I see.” Wynne observed as she strolled in.  
“Regretfully, yes.” I groaned.  
“Let’s have a look.” She moved to sit down beside me and lifted my still blood-stained shirt. “No mountain climbing for you tomorrow, young lady. The ashes will still be there the next day.” She ordered as she rubbed some sort of salve on the wound.  
I let out a big sigh. “Yes, ma’am.” I paused. “This is so lame. Last time at least I had a compelling story to tell. ‘Oh this wound here? Yeah, I was almost eaten alive by an immortal dragon.’ Now what can I say? ‘Oh, I was run through by an evil laundry lass wielding a big fork.’” 

Alistair let out a big laugh at that one, which ultimately turned into a chunky, forceful cough. Poor thing. 

“Laugh it up while you can, Alistair. I have an ice-cold bath drawn with your name on it.”  
“Awww do I have to?” he whined. Wynne felt his forehead.  
“Yes, I’m afraid you do. Come on. Up we go.” She grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet before turning to me. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” I just nodded. 

I heard an incredibly loud gasp from the other room when I assumed Alistair felt the freezing water against his fevered skin. Then a string of unintelligible obscenities, which made me smile a little despite myself. What? You gotta admit, it was a little bit funny. Then Wynne came back to see me. She lifted the sheet off my lap and applied some ointment to my thigh. I had no idea where my pants went, but they were gone. Whatever. I’d find them tomorrow. I was in too much pain and too exhausted to care. Then she exposed my shoulder and rubbed some more ointment there. Bless that mage. She was doing everything within her power to keep everyone safe and healthy—not once putting herself first. We all owed her for that. Even me. Especially me. Welp, time to bury the old hatchet methinks.

“…Wynne?”  
“Scarlett?”  
“Thank you. For your help. I think we’d all be a bit lost without you.”  
“You are welcome. After the way we’d left things… well, I’m glad to hear you feel that way.”  
“I’m sorry I got so angry. What you said… it hurt me. I know you’re not wrong but… I don’t know. Perhaps that’s why it hurt. The truth has a habit of hurting.”  
“You know, I accidentally overheard you talking before I walked in earlier.” She admitted. “…Perhaps I was wrong. There seems to be something special between the two of you. He seems less guarded in your company, allows himself to relax. And he seems genuinely happy.”  
“Well, he makes me happy, too. Beyond happy, if I’m being honest.”  
“I know. I can tell. When I first met you, you seemed… closed off. Frozen and numb. It seems Alistair has somehow managed to thaw that cold heart of yours. I think I was too harsh in my judgment before… and I am sorry.”  
“I know you meant well. You were trying to look out for us.”  
“What you have may not last forever. Death and duty may part you. But love’s worthiness is not diminished because of that. I should have seen this before. Instead you learn to cherish every precious moment that you spend together, knowing that it may be the last.”  
“Thank you, Wynne. I will treasure these moments. Even the ones where he’s pale and sickly and I’m a bloody mess.” I smiled.  
“Be sure you do. I must say, it brings warmth to these old bones to know that something so beautiful can be found in the midst of chaos and strife. I wish you both nothing but the best.” She gave my hand a light squeeze before she continued, “Now, I’d better go check on that young man of yours.” 

Before long an icicle formerly known as Alistair started shambling through the doorway. His skin was literally a shade of pale blue, his lips purple, his teeth chattering. 

“I h-hate that woman. S-she’s a b-b-bad person.” He stuttered.  
“Aww my poor frigid baby. Come here. Let’s get you warm.” I lifted the flap of the fur blanket that was on top of me and he crawled in bed beside me, nuzzling into my chest. Maker’s breath, he was freezing!  
“I think Morrigan made some stew if you want some…” I offered.  
“I haven’t thrown up in a couple of hours now. I’d like to keep it that way. Food is a bad idea.”  
I let out a slight chuckle as I wrapped him in my arms. “Fair enough. I couldn’t touch it either. Not after the things I’ve seen today.” I paused, “Wynne and I talked…”  
“Oh?”  
“She apologized, for what she said about us. She said she was wrong.”  
“…Really?”  
“Yep, she said, and I quote, ‘I wish you both nothing but the best.’ So, maybe try to cut her a little slack, hmm? She’s trying to get you better.”  
Alistair sighed. “I know, I know. She’s not really a bad person. I really like Wynne. I just so hate seeing you cry.”  
I kissed his hair as I ran my fingers through it. “You’re very sweet. I am just about the luckiest girl in the world, having you there to catch my tears.” I smiled softly.  
“I told you, I’ll always be here. As long as you’ll have me.” He whispered. I kissed his forehead, moist with the sweat from his newly broken fever.  
“And so will I. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow all of this will seem like a bad dream.” 

He nuzzled into me more, his skin slowly starting to warm again. 

“Scarlett?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Will you sing to me?”  
“…What?”  
“You know… like a lullaby or something? To help me sleep?” 

And then my once frozen heart melted completely. He was so weak and tired and vulnerable. How could I say no? I gently rocked him in my arms and sang the sweet tune my mother used to sing to me when I couldn’t fall asleep. It was very simple, but it was the only lullaby I knew. 

_Goodnight, sleep tight, no more tears_  
_In the morning, I’ll be here_  
_And when we say goodnight, dry your eyes_  
_Because we said goodnight and not goodbye_  
_We said goodnight and not goodbye_

“Mmm…” he smiled against my skin. “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. I love you so much.” He whispered as he drifted off to sleep. I smiled and closed my eyes in an attempt to let sleep overtake me as well, hoping against all hope that, at least for a little while, dreams would deliver me from this waking nightmare.


	28. Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Alistair's condition worsening, Scarlett resorts to her last best chance to turn the tide: The Urn of Sacred Ashes. But that journey will most assuredly not be without peril.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deviating from cannon a bit here but I think it's going to turn out to be something pretty great. Hope you enjoy!

After a couple of days passed, I was officially on the mend. My wounds had begun to close and my body didn’t sting and ache with every little movement I made—it only did that some of the time now. Progress! Much to my dismay, however, Alistair appeared to be getting worse. The fever had come back full force. I hadn’t seen him keep any sort of food or even water down in days. I was going out of my mind. I felt so damn powerless. I just found myself pacing back and forth in the room where he slept, wracking my brain for some panacea, some home remedy, something I hadn’t previously thought of that could make him better. Meatball’s head moved from left to right as he watched my movements from the foot of the bed. It was sweet, really. Ever since Alistair had fallen ill, Meatball hadn’t left his side.

“Scarlett…” Wynne beckoned me to follow her outside the room where Alistair was resting.  
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Wynne. Give it to me straight. What are we dealing with here?”  
“I honestly don’t know. It’s like no illness I’ve ever seen. Nothing I do seems to make any sort of difference. His condition just keeps worsening.”  
“Is it some sort of… I don’t know… plague or something?” I asked.  
“We haven’t been exposed to anyone with that kind of disease, so that’s unlikely. Even if we had, Alistair would not be the only one suffering the effects. And it’s not some simple stomach bug, either. If it were, he’d be feeling better by now. I just don’t understand it. Whatever this is…” she began as she gently placed her hands on my shoulders, her expression full of sorrow and regret. “I believe it’s killing him.” 

And there it was. My very worst fear come to fruition. He was so young, so vibrant and full of life. I knew we faced danger every day on the battlefield, but to lose him like this… to some mystery illness that was slowly sucking all that life out of him… I felt blind-sided. At least on the battlefield I could try my damndest to protect him. This… this was something else. How do you defeat an enemy you don’t know how to fight? I took a deep breath and tried to look at the miserable situation logically. It was the only way I was going to get through this. 

“How long?” I whispered, my chest heavy and aching with heartbreak.  
“I can’t be certain. If his condition continues to decline at this rate… likely less than a week.” 

I closed my eyes tight to keep the tears from falling. Screw it. I did have one option I was tossing around as a last resort. It was a long shot, and the fact of the matter was that I had no idea what effects it would have on him—that is, if it worked at all. But I was willing to do anything to keep him alive, to keep him with me. And I do mean anything. We’d deal with the repercussions later. 

“The ashes. If they can fix Eamon they can fix Alistair, right?” I posed, a hint of hopefulness peeking through my otherwise despair-laden tone.  
“We don’t even know if they can heal anyone, Scarlett. Not for sure.”  
“I’ve got to try. I can’t lose him, Wynne. I just can’t. We’ll leave immediately.”  
“Alistair cannot go with you. Not in his condition.”  
“Will you stay with him? Keep him safe?”  
Wynne gave me a solemn nod. “Meatball and I will look out for him.”  
“Thank you.” 

I went back into the room and knelt by Alistair’s bedside, taking his hand in mine and kissing the back of it. 

“Well? What’s the prognosis, doc?” he smirked slightly.  
“I’m going to fix this, do you hear me? Maker as my witness I am going to find those ashes and make all of this go away.” I vowed as I looked into his weary eyes.  
“That bad, huh?” he tried for a full smile but all that showed through was a crooked grimace, his lips covered in cuts and sores from all the bile repeatedly passing over them.  
“We’re leaving this morning. You… you can’t come with us. You know that, right?” I asked as gently as I could manage. 

He nodded slowly.

“Wynne and Meatball will be here to take care of you until I return. I shan’t be long. I promise.”  
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, you know.” He teased.  
“Heh alright. Let’s try this: I will be back at your side as soon as humanly possible. And I will love you with all my heart every minute in between.” I gave him my most genuine smile.  
“And that’s what keeps me going.” He squeezed my hand. “I love you. Come back to me in one piece.”  
I got up from the floor and leaned down to kiss his head. “I love you, too. Rest now.”  
He nodded slowly. “I’ll try.”  
“Oh! I almost forgot.” I exclaimed as I rummaged through my pack and pulled out the rose he gave me—somehow it still looked as fresh and beautiful as the day he picked it. “Here. This has gotten me through some rather tough times. I’d like you to hold onto it for me while I’m gone.”  
“I… I thought you threw this away. When we had that fight after—”  
“I… may have bluffed a bit.” I smirked.  
“You sly demon, you.” He smirked back.  
“Someone rather special gave this to me. I’ll cherish it always.” My smirk turned into a full smile.  
“I’ll keep it close.” He whispered as he grabbed it and rested it across his chest. I kissed his cheek as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

…

My injury-riddled body definitely felt the climb up to the temple, but none of my wounds tore open, which was a definite plus. I removed the medallion from my neck and opened the door, just as Genitivi had instructed. So far so good. 

Maker, the place was immense. And incredibly picturesque. Alabaster archways and carvings adorned the temple’s massive walls, all shrouded beneath a blanket of glittering snow and ice. 

“I can’t believe all this is still standing. This temple must be thousands of years old.” Leliana observed.  
“An ancient temple, lost to all but a select few. Magnificent.” Morrigan commented.  
“Wow, is the infamously blasé Morrigan finally awestruck by one of the wonders we’ve seen?” I teased. She just gave me an icy glare.  
“This place is so cavernous. I do not even know where to begin.” Zevran commented.  
“Well, do what I usually do. Just point in a direction and go.”  
“That’s it? There is no other method to your madness?”  
“Nope. Most of the time it’s just blind luck. Winging it is vastly underrated.” I smirked.  
“Ah, truly a woman after my own heart.” Zevran smiled. 

Upon opening the door to the first room we found some old books and some villagers… cultists… whatever you want to call them, who attacked as soon as they saw us. It scared me half to death—I thought the place to be abandoned. Booby traps I was expecting but other people? That threw me for a loop. We made quick work of them.

When we walked into the next room, Morrigan had a suggestion. “More books. We should burn a few to warm ourselves up, I should think.”  
“Bite your tongue!” I snapped back. Maker, if I could have I would have taken them all with me, but I had one thing on my mind and one thing only: Save Alistair. Nothing else mattered—not even a lifetime supply of my favorite vice.  
“I don’t think anyone would mind if I borrowed a book or two…” Leliana commented.  
“Just be careful of what you touch. Genitivi warned us about traps, remember?” I reminded her.  
“Lucky for us all, I’m rather good at detecting those, remember?” she countered as she grabbed a couple and stashed them in her pack.  
“Fine, have it your way. But I’m borrowing them when you’re done.” I smirked.  
“Oh, of course.” She smiled back. “Speaking of traps, there’s a trip wire about six inches from your feet.”  
“Yep, definitely would have missed that. I owe ya one.” She moved to disarm it so we could continue forward.

And so we pressed on, exploring room after room, endless hallway after endless hallway, looking for some shred of evidence to suggest we were making any sort of progress. All we found was a whole lot of nothing—well, barring a lot more traps and angry cultists and a few ornery brontos. I know, I have no idea how or why they were in that temple either. Seeing the first one charging toward me scared me out of my wits. In our nosing about I did manage to find a little figure of a stone warrior that I thought Alistair might like, so I stashed it away to give to him when I got back. …Don’t look at me like that! So I stole a little something from an ancient temple—the Maker could smite me later. Bring it on! 

After we searched every nook and cranny on the first level, we climbed the stairs and began exploring the second. And wouldn’t you know it? We were greeted by a damn ash wraith. Oh actually, scratch that—two ash wraiths. I guess spirits were in the mix now—you know, in addition to the insane zealots and the huge horned beasts. Lovely. After taking care of those ugly sons of bitches, we came upon an altar and I lit it because Leliana said so and frankly, I was not about to argue. This was all pretty foreign territory to me. I never was much of a chantry-goer. 

The further into the temple we went, the more trouble we seemed to find. More traps. More cultists. More wraiths. It was getting old fast. Then we reached what appeared to be the end of the temple and found ourselves making our way through some old underground caverns. Oh, and said caverns were positively lousy with dragonlings. Yep, the same creatures we’d fought in the chantry back in Haven. The plot thickens. 

We went east and found some empty, blood-soaked cages containing some pig and goat remains. The smell was positively nauseating. I assumed the cultists had used these for feeding the baby dragons. As we continued we stumbled upon some kind of hatchery—there was all sorts of equipment and dragon eggs lying about. I tried to piece the clues together in my mind, but it still wasn’t making any sense. Why go through all this trouble for a bunch of lizards who would likely eat you upon maturing? What was the point? 

Then we were greeted by a man who actually seemed interested in talking things through before diving in head first and attacking us—a refreshing change of pace. 

“Stop! You will go no further!” he shouted.  
“Oh? Is that so?” I asked. Alright, I admit it; I was feeling a bit cheeky.  
“You have defiled our temple. You have spilled the blood of the faithful and slaughtered our young. No more! You will tell me now, intruder, why you have done all this! Why have you come here?!” he demanded to know.  
“We seek the Urn of Sacred Ashes.” I explained matter-of-factly.  
“You did this all for an ancient relic? Know this, stranger: The prophet Andraste has overcome death itself, and has returned to Her faithful in a form more radiant than you can imagine!”  
“I think I should like to see this risen Andraste.” I made no pains to hide my disbelief.  
“None but the disciples may approach Andraste. She is not ready yet, but when the time is right she will descend upon the nations in fiery splendor, and all shall know Her! But…” he began in a gentler tone, “Perhaps there is a way to make up for your recent transgressions…” 

Oh, this should be good. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Father Kolgrim. I lead the disciples of Andraste. Atop this mountain lie the remains of the mortal Andraste. The Urn is watched by an immortal guardian. He is trapped in the past and refuses to accept the risen Andraste. Now the ashes prevent holy Andraste from fully realizing Her new form. They are a remnant of her past incarnation, and She cannot move on as long as they exist.”  
“You… you want me to destroy the ashes?” I asked. In Alistair’s absence, I felt Leliana’s stare of disapproval boring into my spine this time.  
“I speak not of destruction. The Beloved needs to reclaim the ashes, to make them Her own again. All it would take is a drop of Her blood.” Kolgrim explained.  
“Ah, poison the well, so to speak. I see. And you haven’t done this yourself because…”  
“The guardian has foiled all our attempts to reach the Urn. He keeps what power remains from the true Andraste. He knows the disciples and we cannot touch him, for he draws his strength from the ashes themselves. But you could deliver our Lady what is rightfully Hers.” 

Leliana rested her hands on her hips in indignation. She was clearly growing more and incensed as the conversation progressed. 

“He thinks Andraste is reborn? It is preposterous. Ugh. I do not like this.” Leliana warned.  
“Don’t worry. It’s pretty obvious he’s off his rocker. I have no intention of doing what he asks.” I reassured her. I didn’t even lower my voice. I said it right to his face. I’m not sure I ever saw someone do a complete 180 that quickly in my life—his disposition went from sweet and forgiving to absolutely livid in nanoseconds. 

“Then we cannot allow you to leave here. To arms, my brethren! Andraste will grant us victory!” Kolgrim shouted.

Andraste did no such thing. Better luck next time, bub. Although, I will admit, Kolgrim was kind of a tough customer. With my wounds still in the process of healing and Sten’s arm still in a sling, he almost gave us a run for our money. Still, we managed to persevere. 

As we made our way out of the caverns and into a clearing, we were met with a rather nasty surprise. And suddenly it all clicked. Those bloody idiots thought Andraste was reborn in the form of a Maker-forsaken high dragon. Damnit. Why couldn’t she be reborn in the form of a sheep? Or a cat? A pigeon, even. That I could handle. 

“Hide. NOW!” I ordered in a loud whisper. Luckily we all managed to get out of the way before she spotted us. Merciful Andraste. That whole experience with Flemeth had put me off dragons for life. I was literally shaking like a leaf. The sound of the dragon’s roar made my stomach turn with a combination of unadulterated terror and supreme dread. Oh, I so wasn’t going to take her on. Not if there was any possible way to avoid it. 

She landed far enough away from us and appeared to curl up and go to sleep. Welp, it was now or never. We started running straight ahead, not looking anywhere but forward. 

“You know, they say music tames the savage beast…” Leliana began. I just shot her a glare as we kept up our jog. “Well, I didn’t say I was going to test the theory.”  
“Be cautious. A dragon such as this is better to avoid than engage.” Morrigan warned.  
“Oh, I have zero intentions of engaging, trust me. Lesson fucking learned, thanks to your mummy dearest.”  
“Ah yes. Mother did always have a rather vivid way of making a point.”  
“Vivid?! She almost ate me!” I half-shouted, half-whispered.  
“Yet the lesson remains with you still, does it not?” Morrigan smirked. I just rolled my eyes. 

We finally made it across the clearing and went through another door, this one leading to the mountaintop. 

“This is not like the rest of the temple.” Morrigan observed. “This part is unblemished. Untouched.”  
“We… we must be close. This is holy ground. I can feel it.” Leliana explained, making no attempt to mask her growing excitement.  
“There.” Zevran pointed. “I do believe that gentleman is the guardian the priest spoke of. Shall we say hello?” 

I gave him a nod and led the way to the stoic man clad in ancient armor. 

“I bid you welcome, pilgrim.” He greeted. It was so strange… his voice somehow made its own echo, as though he were speaking with more than one set of vocal chords. Some might call it ethereal; I’d call it creepy. 

“You must be the guardian.” I posed.  
“Yes. I am the protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I have waited years for this.”  
“…For what? For me?” I asked, clearly puzzled by his admission.  
“You are the first to arrive in a very long time. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste.”  
“Right. Let’s get right down to it, shall we? How do I get to the Urn?” I asked.  
“You have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy.” 

Ah. Always a catch. 

“I need those ashes to heal a dying man.” I explained. Well, two men really, but who’s counting? Perhaps if the guardian understood I was not seeking the ashes for profit or some other selfish reason, he’d think I was worthy.  
“Still, you must prove yourself worthy.” Or not. “It is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that.” 

Oh boy did I not like the sound of that. 

“If you are found worthy,” the guardian went on, “you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the ashes for yourself. If not…”  
“What can you tell me about this Gauntlet?” I asked.  
“The Gauntlet tells the true pilgrims from the false. You will undergo four tests of faith, and we will see how your soul fares.” 

Gah, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped all those chantry services back in Highever. Curses! Why had the Maker not made me more pious?! 

“Alright, let’s go. I’m ready.” I lied. I so wasn’t. Not even close. I was scared to death. Still, I wasn’t going to accomplish a damn thing by just standing around. 

“Before you go, there is something I must ask. I can see the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past—your suffering and the suffering of others. You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy. Do you think you failed your parents?” 

Maker have mercy, his words cut me like a thousand knives. There I was, psyching myself up, all ready to face anything and everything that lay beyond that door behind him—anything but my own past. I weighed his words carefully as I felt hot tears beginning to well up in my eyes. 

“Yes,” I whispered. “I should have defended them to the death.”  
“Thank you. That is all I needed to know.”  
“Is there any religion that does not thrive upon guilt like a glutton at his lunch? No? I thought not.” Morrigan supposed. I think she was trying to make me feel better. It didn’t work.  
“You could not have known what would happen, Scarlett.” Leliana offered gently. “You did what you thought was best.”  
“Parshaara. Leave the past where it falls.” Sten advised, the first time I’d heard him talk since we’d left the village.  
“And what of those who follow you?” The guardian posed. “You.” He looked at Leliana. “Why do you say the Maker speaks to you when all know that the Maker has left? He spoke only to Andraste. Do you believe yourself her equal?”  
“I never said that. I—” Leliana began to argue but was cut off.  
“In Orlais, you were someone. In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself—become a drab sister and disappear. When your brothers and sisters at the cloister criticized you for what you professed, you were hurt, but you also reveled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention—even if it was negative.”  
“You’re saying I made it up for… for the attention?! I did not! I know what I believe.” Leliana defended herself.  
“And the Antivan elf.” The guardian turned to Zevran.  
“Oh, is it my turn now? Hurrah. I am so excited.” Zev exclaimed dispassionately.  
“Many have died at your hand. But is there any you regret more than a woman by the name of—”  
“How do you know about that?” Zev interrupted defensively.  
“I know much. It is allowed to me. The question stands, however. Do you regret?”  
“Yes, the answer is yes, if that is what you wish to know. I do. Now move on.” He spat out bitterly while crossing his arms. Man, this guy really knew how to get under your skin. I wonder if he and Sten were schoolmates…  
“Demand whatever answers you want, spirit.” Sten commanded.  
“You came to this land as an observer, but you killed a family in a blind rage. Have you failed your people by allowing a Qunari to be seen in that light?”  
“I have never denied that I failed.” Was all Sten responded with.  
“And you, Morrigan, Flemeth’s daughter. What—”  
“Be gone, spirit.” Morrigan brushed him away with her hand. “I will not play your games.”  
“I will respect your wishes.” The guardian acquiesced.

Are you kidding me?! We could have all just skipped the third-degree and rather painful trip down memory lane and just moved on?! GRRRRRRR! 

“The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek.” The guardian offered before he disappeared into the ether.

We walked through the door and were greeted by eight… apparitions. When I spoke to the first one, she posed a riddle. When I spoke to the second, he did the same. Finally, something I was good at! I mean, I could hold my own in a fight, but word games and puzzles were definitely right up my alley. Figuring out each answer was a breeze. At this rate, we’d find those ashes in no time! I was so pumped! 

Then I ran into my father—or at least, a figure who looked like him. My optimism flew right out the window as soon as I realized who was standing before me. Seeing him again… all manner of emotions coursed through me. Happiness, relief, grief, sadness, regret, longing… I don’t quite know how to describe what I felt, to be perfectly honest. Then he spoke to me. 

“My dearest child.”  
“…Father?”  
“You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back. No more must you grieve, my girl. Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let go. It is time. You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared.” 

I moved to hug him but my arms enveloped nothing but air and just like that, he was gone. I swallowed my tears and whispered to myself, “Enough. Enough now.” Leliana came up behind me and gave me a quick hug. I patted her arm. “Thanks.” I took a deep breath and regained my composure before we pressed on. 

Then we began trial two, and Maker was it a doozy. We had to fight… ourselves. That might not sound that bad, but consider your opponent being able to anticipate your every move, your every thought, to command every skill in your arsenal, every trick you might have up your sleeve. It’s pretty damn hard to outsmart yourself and your best friends—the very people you spend just about every waking moment with. 

“Mix it up!” I called out. “Do not try to take yourself on. You will not win.”  
“But I look so handsome during combat!” Zev joked as he dodged an ice attack from not-Morrigan’s staff.  
“Oh what fun! Pity Alistair isn’t here. I could have finally had the satisfaction of setting him on fire.” Morrigan whined as she cast a fire spell at not-Leliana.  
“It is about time I encountered a worthy opponent.” Sten quipped as he stabbed himself in the stomach.  
“As I recall, I kicked your ass rather effectively, Sten.” I teased smugly as I parried a blow from not-Zevran’s dagger.  
“Gloating is most unbecoming.” He shot back.  
“Scarlett! A little help!” Leliana cried as not-me had her cornered, weapon poised to hit home. I ran up and plunged my sword up through my spine. I know. It felt as weird as it sounds. 

Before long we cleared the room and made our way to trial three. Much to my delight, it was another puzzle. Although I was far better at word games than spatial ones, it still didn’t pose much difficulty. We had to stand on different platforms to solidify a bridge that led to the next room. 

“Have any of you ever played a game called Simon Says?” I smirked.  
“Oh yes! I remember that game!” Leliana smiled brightly.  
“Ahh I have many a fond memory of that game. You know, it is just as much fun in the bedroom.” Zevran grinned wickedly.  
“Oh let us get on with it.” Morrigan demanded shortly.  
“Okay, Morrigan, Simon Says to stand on Left 3. Sten, Left 6.”  
“But Simon did not say. Or do I miss the point of this childish diversion?” Sten questioned, clearly confused. I just facepalmed.  
“Very well. Sten, Simon Says move to Left 6. Zev, Simon Says move to Right 2.”

And so I kept moving my companions around as though they were pieces on a chess board. I had to admit, it was sort of fun. 

After the bridge was fully manifested, Leliana exclaimed, “That was fun! Can we do it again?” I just shook my head. 

Upon entering the room that contained the fourth and final trial, I noticed a wall literally made of flames, which did not bode well. There was a single altar near the door with another riddle that read, “Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit, king and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker’s sight.” 

“Oh no…” I uttered.  
“What, what do we have to do?” Leliana asked, clearly worried.  
I just turned around and grabbed Zevran by the shoulders, bending my knees slightly so we could see eye-to-eye. “I need you to handle this with maturity and aplomb, do you hear me?”  
“What? Why do you single me out?”  
“…We all need to get naked.” I explained.  
“Ahhh, now it all makes sense. Do not worry, my fiery Ferelden rose. These hands shall be kept to myself. My eyes, however… no promises.” The elf smirked.  
“Ugh, that’s what I was afraid of. Oh well. We’ve come this far. I’m not going to let a little bashfulness stand in my way now.” I reasoned as I began removing my weapons and armor. Everyone else followed suit.

“One off-color comment, Zev, and I swear to the Maker I will strike you down where you stand.” I swore.  
“It occurs to me that without your weapons you do not pose much of a threat, my curvaceous, ivory-skinned beauty. I confess I can see why Alistair keeps you all to himself; I likely wouldn’t want to share you either.” 

I soooo badly wanted to scream and shout a string of scathing insults at that blasted elf, but this was neither the time nor the place. I just blushed profusely, gritted my teeth, and balled my hands into fists, making a mental note to make him pay for this once we were out of here. And dearly.

For once, I was thankful for being in front. It was easier to pretend no one else was behind me, although Zevran had sort of ruined that. Also, I had less than zero desire to see a naked Sten. Blech. 

It was the strangest thing. As I walked through the flames, I remained unburnt. More than that, I actually felt… better. As though I were being reborn. All my recently inflicted wounds closed completely, not even leaving the slightest scar. As I looked myself over, I noticed that the old wounds I’d received from Flemeth had somehow faded as well. And even though we’d been awake for more than a day at this point, I felt completely re-energized. 

“Does anyone else feel… surprisingly good? Rejuvenated?” I asked as I looked behind me. Gah! Mistake! My eyes! Some things you just cannot unsee. A naked Sten is one such image. Gross! 

“My arm…” Sten removed it from the sling and moved it around, “it’s completely healed.”  
“I feel wonderful!” Leliana beamed. 

Then the guardian came into the room. Andraste’s blood, why don’t we just go ahead and call in all of Thedas? Wouldn’t want anyone to miss out on our display of unencumbered nudity, would we? Ugh. 

“You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet; you have walked the path of Andraste, and like Her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself worthy, pilgrim. Approach the Sacred Ashes.”

Once he disappeared and we’d all made it through the flames safely, I could not get dressed quickly enough. I walked up the stairs and approached the statue that was bearing the Urn and let out a huge, relieved sigh. We made it. We actually made it. 

“I never dreamed I would ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes… I… I have no words to express—” Leliana stammered.  
“I stand in awe. Really.” Morrigan deadpanned.  
“Congratulations. You found a waste-bin.” Sten offered sardonically.  
“Nice vase. I should get one for my house.” Zevran commented.  
“Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s just soooo cool and nonchalant about this. I get it.” I rolled my eyes. 

I confess I took a little more than a pinch of the ashes—closer to a smattering. I had to be sure I had enough for both Alistair and Eamon. The guardian made no protest so I figured I was going to get away with it. I wasn’t taking any more than I needed, after all, and if he could really peer into our very souls, he knew my heart was in the right place. And then we simply turned around and started to leave. Just a girl and her friends walking out of an ancient temple with a holy item capable of defying death itself firmly nestled in her back pocket. No big deal, right?


	29. Pick Your Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> With the Ashes now procured, Scarlett is desperate to get back to Alistair before it's too late. After Sten forces her to face one of her greatest fears, she makes it back to Haven, only to realize there was something far more sinister at work where Alistair is concerned than she'd initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, deviating from cannon a bit here but I hope you still enjoy! Would love to hear your feedback!

When we exited the temple doors I was very suddenly reminded we were far from home free. We had a ridiculously huge and inordinately angry high dragon to try and sneak past. Again.

“Okay, guys. Just like before. We’ll sneak… where’s Zevran?” I asked as I looked around.  
“Oh no…” Leliana replied as she looked past me and into the distance.  
“What? What do you mean? The nest of a fucking high dragon is not the place for ‘Oh no’s, Leliana!” I whispered as loud as I could without going into full voice.  
“You remember how good it felt to be near the ashes? Well… for some reason, the effects of the ashes made Zevran a little… giddy. And hyper. He’s up ahead running around and doing cartwheels.”  
“WHAT?!” I tried to run to him as fast as my legs would carry me, before he did something supremely stupid.

“Zev! Calm yourself! High dragon, right over there, remember?!” I half-whispered, half-shouted at the elf as soon as I was within earshot.  
“Bring it on!” Zevran shouted. “I feel wonderful! Not even a high dragon can bring me down! Come on, you ugly purple son of a bitch! Have at thee!” He shouted as he took out his daggers and began twirling them in his wrists to show off. His shouts echoed and were amplified ten-fold as the sound bounced off the rocky cliffs and ledges surrounding us. Somehow, however, the dragon still hadn’t awoken. It was a damn miracle.

“Zevran, I swear to the Maker, I will tie you down myself if I have to. I don’t have time for your bloody shenanigans. We need to get out of here right now.” I whispered as I attempted to grab his wrists and stop him from creating even more of a spectacle.  
“Oh, is that a promise?” he grinned as he evaded all of my attempts to grab at him. Gah! That elf was too damn quick.

While I was preoccupied with Zevran, Sten took it upon himself to bang his sword against a rather large gong—the tinny sound of which could have awoken the Maker Himself. Who put that there?! Perfect. Just peachy. Sten, always the strong silent type, had decided to take it upon himself to make enough noise to disturb all of Thedas. GRRRRRRRR! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Time was not exactly on our side here. Alistair’s life was hanging on by a thread. I did not have time to dither around with a damn high dragon! I swear, I am going to kill that Qunari.

“Why the fuck did you do that?! We don’t have time for this!” I shouted as I began to hear the dragon stir on her perch. Welp, there would be no sneaking past her now. That dragon was awake and ready for a fight. Only… I wasn’t. I was petrified of going anywhere near her. That fight with Flemeth really had messed me up something fierce. Everyone else readied their weapons. As for me? I searched for something to hide behind. Some leader I was.

“You need the practice.” He explained matter-of-factly.  
“That is not your fucking call to make. Alistair is dying. We need to go. NOW!”  
“Your love can wait. You once told me the Archdemon takes the form of a dragon—only it is harder to kill. How do you expect to win that fight when you do nothing but run from this lesser one?” Sten asked, his sword at the ready.  
“You don’t understand. I… I can’t do this. I can’t fight her. I’m not ready. I—”  
“You assured me we are not running away from anything back in Haven.”  
“We… we’re not. I just—”  
“You either prove yourself a liar and run or stand and fight with us and be the leader you were born to be. There is no middle ground. What is your choice?” The Qunari presented my options quite plainly. Well then. I guess I was going to slay me a dragon—and try not to almost die in the process this time.

“You have the ashes, Scarlett. ‘Tis an advantage. Be brave. We will get through this.” Leliana assured me.

I suppose she had a point—the ashes could provide minor healing powers just because I was in such close proximity to them—though given the paltry amount, the effects would very much be diminished. Still, if Wynne couldn’t be with us, this was a close second. But if the worst should come to pass, the true power of those ashes was not meant for me. Ferelden would need Alistair, not only the Grey Warden but also the future king. I’d accepted that long ago—that when push comes to shove, his life is worth more than mine. Not to mention, I simply did not want to go on living without him. I don’t think my already fragile heart would ever recover from yet another catastrophic loss.

“Leliana, if something happens… save Alistair. Not me. Do you understand?” I barely got the question in before the dragon let out a deafening roar and landed right in front of us.  
“I—” she began to respond but had to roll out of the way of the dragon’s fiery breath.  
“This is the supposed Andraste, yes? Would the cultists have brought Her offerings? You know, gold, silver, jewels…” Zevran asked while doing his best to stay out of the fray.  
“I… guess? I mean, that would make sense, but…” and before I could finish, daggers still twirling dizzyingly, he hopped onto the dragon’s back, slicing and dicing away at her scaly aubergine flesh. Maker’s breath, that foolhardy spendthrift is going to get himself killed one day. Welp, no going back now, that’s for damn sure. I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments to try and form some kind of plan.

If Zev was going to join Sten and I at close range…

“Leliana, find some higher ground and get her with your arrows. Do not stop loosing them until they’re gone. At that point, join us at close range. Morrigan, fire will be all but useless against her. Find a decent vantage point and use your frost attacks. Sten, take her left. I’ll take her right. Stay on her flank or rear. Do not get in front of her.” I ordered.

And so we split up and began doing what now needed to be done. I don’t know if it was because I was now more experienced in battle, or because we now knew our respective roles in combat when it came to tactics, or if it was because this dragon was merely an animal rather than a cunning immortal witch, but she seemed to be much more susceptible to our attacks than the last time I’d faced one of her kind. But that’s not to say she didn’t give us one heck of a challenge. She clawed and roared and gnashed her teeth and kicked and swiped—Maker, there was seemingly no end to her veritable cornucopia of assaults. The mere flap of her wings created so much wind it was enough to knock even Sten down. Still, we kept on fighting.

Zevran was holding on for dear life as she thrashed beneath him, as though he were trying to tame some giant wild stallion. Somehow, he still managed to stay on her back and continued cutting away at her. Sten and I kept our focus on her hind legs, trying our damndest to get the fuck out of the way whenever she stomped her feet or tried to turn around and burn us alive. Leliana shot arrows into the underside of her belly whenever she had a clear shot—an area that seemed slightly more vulnerable than her hardened, scaly exterior. Morrigan’s frost attacks did slow the dragon down a little, but only a little. Still, whatever advantages we could get were definitely of use.

After what felt like hours the dragon finally began to lower her head and no longer seemed to be able to take flight. And that’s also when I couldn’t help but get horrible flashbacks of when Flemeth had been in the same damn position—right before she wrapped her jaws around my body and broke it in several places.

“Warden! Now!” Sten cried as he dropped to his knees and ran his sword repeatedly into the dragon’s side. I wasn’t going to get in front of her. That was one mistake I did not care to repeat. Instead, I sort of… climbed Sten. I used his back as a stepping stool to climb the dragon herself, then with a thunderous cry, I ran my sword through the spot where her spine met the back of her skull. That seemed to do the trick. The dragon’s head lowered completely and after a long rattling sound escaped her throat, she no longer drew breath. It was over. And somehow, we were all still standing.

“We… we got her.” I put my hands on my knees and tried to catch my breath.  
“Yes. Perhaps you are not a completely lost cause after all.” Sten commented with… was that… I think it was. The smallest of smiles. I could not share in his sentiment. Ringing that gong was just about the stupidest thing he could have possibly done. Not only did he further endanger Alistair, he endangered all of our lives as well.  
“We’re going. Right now. If Alistair is gone by the time we get back, no second chances this time, Qunari. You’re gone.” I glared at him as I spat out the words.  
“You need me. You cannot simply surround yourself with flatterers, Warden. Flatterers will strengthen your imperfections and correct you in nothing. You need those who challenge you. Who question you.”

Damnit. I didn’t like arguing with Sten regardless, but I especially hated it when he was right. I just gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists before grunting, “Let’s go.”  
“Surely we’re not leaving now! Look at all this!” Zevran explained while gesturing to the loot the dragon had been hording near her perch. I suppose the cultists had been bringing her offerings rather regularly after all. The riches were considerable, but I didn’t care a lick about them.

“We don’t have time, Zev. I need to get back to Haven. Immediately.”  
“Then I will catch up, my dear. I promise to share whatever riches I manage to carry back.”  
“Suit yourself.” I called dispassionately as I began to leave him.  
“Stupid elves and their preoccupation with treasure. How can anyone be so—Is that an onyx necklace?” Morrigan asked as Zevran held the piece of jewelry in an offering to her.  
“Onyx and citrine, I believe. It matches you perfectly, my raven-haired beauty. As though it were made only for you.”  
“Perhaps I should stay with the elf. You know, in case he runs into any trouble. ‘Tis a far walk back to Haven and he should not be left alone.” Morrigan offered, not fooling anyone for a second.  
“How very selfless of you.” I rolled my eyes.  
“I saw what appears to be a shortcut through the mountains over there. It should cut our travel time down considerably.” Leliana explained.  
“Thank the Maker for that.” I sighed in relief.

And so it did. The hidden cave led right back to the entrance of the temple. All we had to do was descend an ice-covered mountain and walk back to the village after being awake for two days straight and completely malnourished. Piece of cake.

…

To this day I couldn’t tell you how we pulled it off, but we did manage to make it back to Haven without stopping. My love for Alistair was driving me, beckoning me back to his side, and nothing in this world or the next was going to delay me further.

“Wynne!” I cried as soon as I pushed the door to the abandoned house open. “I have them! I—” And I looked behind her to see an unconscious Alistair, seemingly devoid of all signs of warmth and life. “No. I can’t be too late. Tell me I’m not too late! Please!” I gasped and fell to my knees as the tears already began to fall.  
“He’s been that way for a few hours now… I… I believe he’s gone.” She admitted barely above a whisper.  
“No. No no no! Please! You have to try! Try anything!” I begged.  
“Give me the ashes and leave us. If we are to act it must be now.” She demanded. I handed her the pouch.  
“Try to save some for Eamon, but if you need to use all of them, do what you must.” I instructed.

She nodded in acknowledgement and closed the door to the bedroom. I just collapsed on the floor from hunger and exhaustion.

…

I awoke to the muffled groans of a man who sounded as though he were bound and gagged. I could hear the creaking of his chair, the rustle of his clothes as he struggled to break free. So, that’s always a fun thing to wake up to. Then I saw Morrigan approach me with a hot bowl of… something… in her hands.

“Here. You must eat.” She explained as she handed me the bowl.  
“I’m not hungry. Is Alistair—”  
“Wynne is still with him. Give your body some sustenance before you lose consciousness again. You are of no use to anyone in such a state.”  
“Thanks.” I offered as I grabbed the bowl from her hands.  
“I swear, Scarlett. Why is it that all common sense seems to elude you when it comes to that fool of a man?”  
I just shrugged. “Perhaps the same reason all your common sense goes out the window when you see something pretty. Nice necklace, by the way.” I smirked. She just scoffed.  
“My reasons to stay with Zevran were perfectly sound.”  
“Ah yes. To ‘protect him.’ You’re such a martyr. The jewels were just the icing on the cake, I suppose.” I paused as she glared at me icily. “Look, I’m not saying I blame you. I’m just saying we all have our vices, our weaknesses. You have finery. I have him.”  
She let out a heavy sigh. “I do believe I am getting the better end of the deal.”  
“We can agree to disagree. By the by, since I have you here, would you happen to know anything about our captive in the next room?”  
“No.” was all she said. Great.  
“Where are the others?” I asked.  
“Asleep, of course. You dragged us across a frozen tundra, made us climb and descend a gargantuan mountain, fight cultists, beasts, spirits, ourselves, and a high dragon in a completely unreasonable amount of time and you expect us to what—be throwing a party? Dancing a jig?”  
“I was just asking. Sheesh. If you're so exhausted, why aren’t you asleep, too?”  
“Well, you certainly were not going to take care of yourself when you awoke. Someone had to.”  
“Aww, Morrigan. I’m touched.” I opened my arms and pretended to lean in for a hug.  
“Touch me and you die.” She deadpanned. I couldn’t help but smile.  
“Go get some rest. I’ll be fine. I might wear a hole in the floor from all the pacing I intend to do outside of Alistair’s door, but you know, other than that.”  
“Very well.” She took my bowl from me before heading into another room.

Then, true to form, the pacing commenced. I wasn’t much for prayer, but ever since we came to this Maker-forsaken village, that’s all I seemed to be doing. Wishing and hoping and praying that things will turn out alright. It was incredibly frustrating—trying to resolve things that are totally beyond your control, completely out of your reach. Give me darkspawn any day. Fate and circumstance were the real villains of this story.

Then I heard the door slowly creak open. I stared at Wynne with wide, anticipatory eyes.  
“Well?”  
“He’s sleeping.”  
“Sleeping? As in, that thing we do when we’re tired but still very much alive and breathing, right?!”  
She gave me a slow smile. “Yes. It seems our Alistair will live to fight another day.”  
I opened my arms and gave her the biggest, tightest, warmest hug I possibly could. “Oh thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you!” Maker, my chest was so full of happiness and gratitude I thought my heart would burst.  
Wynne let out a slight chuckle. “I barely did anything, my dear. You brought him those ashes. You saved his life.”  
“We did. We saved him.” I smiled. Then we heard a loud thud.  
“…Wynne?”  
“Yes, I suppose I should explain that.”  
“That would be nice.”  
“Alistair was poisoned, Scarlett. By the man in the next room.”

I unsheathed my sword immediately and made my way over to the door.

“Wait! There’s more. This man… he’s not a stranger.” Wynne explained.  
“Why should I care?” I asked coldly, fully intent on ending his life as soon as possible.  
“You should care because there is more to this plot than lies on the surface. It would be wise to see how deep the water runs before diving in.”

I took a deep breath, put my sword away, and counted to 10 to calm down. I was seeing red. I couldn’t help it. The man in the next room had almost successfully murdered the love of my life. I wanted nothing more than to end his. But Wynne was right. What if there were more assassins? More threats? Why kill Alistair in the first place? I needed to get as much information out of him as possible.

“Tell me exactly what happened while we were gone.” I demanded.

Wynne explained that this individual had apparently been following us for some time, casting his nefarious magic and poisoning Alistair little by little each night. He was obviously a rather powerful mage—his spells had range and potency. Meatball had actually been the one to sniff him out. Found him hiding on the roof of this very house, in fact. The dog’s barking startled him so that he fell off, and that’s when Wynne managed to capture him.

“So, to be clear, thus far all he’s confessed to is poisoning Alistair. We do not know his motives, where his allegiance lies…”  
“Yes. I tried to get more out of him but—”  
“Oh don’t you worry.” I cracked my knuckles one by one. “I can be very persuasive.”

I opened the door to see none other than Jowan staring at me in horror. Yep, Jowan. The mage I’d set free back in Redcliffe. You hear that? That’s the sound of me kicking myself. Hard. I removed the cloth gag from his mouth so he could answer my questions.

“Jowan, was it?” I asked coldly.  
“Y-yes…” He was already shaking. This might be easier than I thought.  
“Wynne here tells me you tried to poison Alistair.” He opened his mouth but I raised my hand in the air to signal him to stop. “Before we begin, let me explain a few things. I am no longer the girl you met in Redcliffe. I have faced unimaginable horrors to get to be where I’m standing today. I’ve become… a cold-blooded warrior, Jowan. A valkyrie forged in the heat of battle. I am a serious fucking force to be reckoned with. And guess what? There are literally two things that matter to me in this ugly, war-ravaged world: saving it, and the man sleeping in the other room; the man you tried to kill.”

I squatted down so my eyes were level with his so he could see just how serious I was. He could barely stand to look at me he was so frightened.

“Now, we can do this with violence, or without. But I will come to know what I want to know, sure as the sun rises in the east. What’s it going to be?” I asked barely above a whisper. Yeah, I laid it on a little thick, but I was tired and not really a fan of torture. Words were my sharpest weapons. Sometimes the pen truly is mightier than the sword.

“W-w-without please.” He stammered.  
“A wise choice. Why are you here? Why have you done this?”  
“If I tell you, will you let me go?” he asked.  
“Oh you’re in no position for bargaining. Let’s just say if you don’t tell me, you’re far more likely to become rather intimate with my blade. How’s that for a deal?” I unsheathed my sword to show him I was not fucking around. He gulped audibly.  
“Isolde… she… she promised me amnesty. She said if I did this for her I wouldn’t hang for poisoning Eamon. She said I owed her this much.”  
“Isolde wants Alistair dead? Why?”  
“Sh-she wants to be queen. Alistair is a threat to Eamon’s claim.”  
“But Eamon isn’t even conscious… how could she possibly...”  
“My orders were to kill Alistair, not you. She figured you would take care of Loghain after bringing her the ashes.”  
“That is one heck of a fucking gamble, Jowan. Not sure I buy it.”  
“Look at the big picture. That was only a best-case scenario. If Eamon didn’t wake up, she had Loghain to fall back on. Anora would fall by the wayside and Isolde would still be queen, just with a different king.”  
“It’s still a shoddy plan. She was merely relying on her feminine wiles to win Loghain’s hand if Eamon died?”  
“Isolde is many things; modest is not one of them. Besides, it would be a good match. With the Couslands gone, the Guerrins are more powerful. Eamon is beloved by his people. Isolde was likely hoping to take that love with her as a bargaining chip.”  
“Oh that wretched, treasonous little viper.” I gnashed my teeth.  
“That’s it, that’s everything.”  
“How did you even know where we were? You couldn’t have possibly followed us all the way to Denerim and back without one of us noticing.”  
“Isolde has spies in her employ. When you returned to Redcliffe, she knew immediately. That’s when she told me to get to work.”  
“And so you slowly poisoned an innocent man night after night to save your own skin? You’re pathetic.”  
“Look, I’m not proud of it, okay? I was just doing what I had to do to survive. If Eamon wakes up, what do you think his first order of business will be? Punishing the one who made him that way in the first place, that’s what.”  
“Your life is forfeit, Jowan. But it won’t end tonight. I need you to come back with us to Redcliffe. Without you, it’s just Isolde’s word against ours, and I’d be willing to bet Eamon will trust his so-called loving wife over a bunch of strangers.”  
“So, what? You’re just going to keep me tied to a chair all night?”  
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I placed the cloth back in his mouth and left the room.

“It’s Isolde. It all leads back to Isolde.”  
“But…why? You saved her life. The life of her boy.” Wynne asked, clearly puzzled.  
“Ambition knows no loyalty.” I stated bitterly.  
“Ah, her eye has fallen on the crown.”  
“You put that together fast.” I noticed.  
“I’ve been around long enough to see my share of royal squabbling.” She explained.  
“Wake Sten up and ask him to guard the mage. We’ll take it in shifts for the rest of the night.”  
“I shall. By the way, I do believe I heard someone stirring in his sleep. Would you like to check on him or shall I?”

I felt my whole face light up at the prospect of seeing him.

“Thanks, Wynne. For everything.” I smiled before opening the door. Meatball jumped off the bed to greet me. I knelt down and scratched him behind his ears before giving him a big hug. Maker, we might have never caught Jowan if it hadn’t been for him. I owed that mutt a whole boatload of treats and then some. I took what was left of the stew Morrigan made and set a bowl on the floor for him. He wagged his tail and happily gobbled it down as I entered Alistair’s room.

I looked over at him lying in bed but he still appeared to be sleeping, so I decided to quietly remove my armor and slip into my nightshirt—aka the shirt formerly known as Alistair’s, still stained with the wine he’d spilled all over himself that night at the Spoiled Princess. It wasn’t pretty but I so didn’t care. It was comfy and it always somehow managed to smell of him. Then I undid my braid reached for my hairbrush, running it over my loose strands in long strokes.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

I jumped a little before looking over at him. Alistair just grinned as he sat up in bed, apparently naked from the waist up—I couldn’t tell if he was wearing anything more beneath the sheet covering his lap. And Maker preserve me, from what I could tell from his candle-lit visage, it really looked like Alistair. My Alistair. The color had returned to his skin, the gleam had returned to his eyes, the playfulness with a hint of seduction had returned to his irresistible smile.

“You’re one to talk.” I smiled back before running over and giving him the biggest, tightest, most comforting embrace I possibly could. He hugged me back just as snugly and I just melted into him and lost track of where my body ended and his began. I took a few moments to just breathe in the musky scent of him. It felt so amazing to be back in his arms I never wanted to let him go ever again.

“Scarlett… the ashes don’t cure the need to breathe.” He teased.  
“Sorry, sorry.” I let him go and moved to sit beside him near the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling, my love?”  
“Like a new man. I can’t believe you actually found it. The Urn of Sacred Ashes. The remains of Andraste Herself. What was it like?”  
“To be perfectly honest, I’d rather not relive it just yet.”  
He let out a slight chuckle as he tucked my hair behind my ear. “Fair enough.”  
“I’m just… so relieved you’re all right. The thought of losing you… I couldn’t bear it.” I admitted barely above a whisper.  
“I felt the same way, back when you were hurt in The Wilds. I was going out of my mind. I’m sorry I put you through that.” He found my hand and laced his fingers with mine. “But we’re both still here, despite some rather impossible odds.” He smiled.  
“Yes, we’re both still here. But one day our luck is bound to run out.” I observed glumly.  
“Ever the optimist.” He smirked. “You may be right, but I have you now and I don’t intend to waste a second of the time I’ve been blessed with.” He paused. “Come closer. Let me get a good look at you.”

I scooched up the side of the bed so I could get closer to his face.

“Closer.” He whispered.  
“I can’t get much—” before I could finish he just patted his lap for me to come sit. That could get tricky. No way was I going to put my full weight on him; not after how weak he was only a scant few hours ago. I decided to straddle him so the majority of my weight was still resting on my own legs.

He grabbed my face in his hands and ran his thumbs over the apples of my cheeks, my jawline, my half-parted lips.

“And to think I might have never looked upon this lovely face again…” he whispered as he planted soft kisses on my eyelids, the corners of my mouth, the tip of my nose...  
I felt myself blush as a soft smile graced my lips.  
“And somehow it’s made even lovelier when you smile.” He whispered between kisses.  
“So many of my smiles begin with you.” I smiled wider as he moved his hands and rested them on my thighs.  
“And with every single one I manage to fall deeper in love with you.” He whispered against my lips as I felt his hands begin to slowly creep upward, the rough touch of his fingertips leaving tiny goosebumps in their wake as they continued their upward journey. His eyes looked up into mine, the most beautifully intense fire burning in those copper irises as he begged silently, his hips beginning to rock beneath me.  
“Alistair…” I whispered as I placed my hands over his to stop his exploration. He moved his hands from beneath mine and pulled the sheet out from between us in one swift motion. Oh. I guess he wasn’t wearing anything under there after all. I could feel his rock-hard length straining against the cotton of my smallclothes and I closed my eyes to try and fight this, or so I told myself. In reality my eyes closed so I could fully revel in the sensation of his manhood right outside my most private spot, begging to be let in. No doubt noticing my welcoming (albeit involuntary) reaction to his advances, his hands went back to making their way up my thighs, which were now quivering with heat and anticipation.

“We… we shouldn’t. It’s too soon. You almost died.” I argued. All valid points, Scarlett, but I panted against his lips and began rocking against him despite myself as I felt him grab either side of my panties.  
“If I’m not inside you soon I’ll die anyway.” He whispered as he nibbled at my lips and ripped the fabric off me like it was nothing. I wanted to protest but Maker, was that move hot. It drove me crazy. I couldn’t help it. Then he gripped my hips with a strength he’d never before shown and guided me exactly where he wanted me. I let out a sharp gasp as I felt the swollen tip of him slip inside me, the tightness of my walls slowly stretching to envelop him entirely as I felt a torrent of moisture flowing between my thighs. He just let out a deep, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside me, as though he had been dying of thirst and my body was the only thing that could possibly quench it.

“Slowly.” I ordered in a whisper. It was the best I could do. He kept his grip on my hips and moved me in rhythm with his unhurried, measured thrusts.  
“As you command.”

I wrapped him in my arms and held him close for fear I would wake and find all this a dream.

“Oh Scarlett…” He called out in a heated whisper, his thrusts growing faster and faster despite my command to do otherwise. And if I'm being completely honest, I absolutely loved the way he was defying me.   
“Alistair…” I panted against his skin.  
“I missed you. Oh Maker, I missed you so much.” He moaned beautifully as he kneaded the flesh of my buttocks and pulled my hips into his over and over and over again at an ever quickening pace, the tip of him stroking a spot so deep inside me it almost hurt, but only almost. I crushed my lips against his as our breathing became ragged, every inch of our bodies singing and tingling as we both came crashing over the edge, all but screaming into each other's mouths as we rode the waves of pleasure together. As they began to ebb, I just kept holding his body close to mine and planted a soft kiss on his now sweaty brow.

“When are you going to start listening to me, huh?” I chided with a smirk and another kiss on the cheek.  
“Funny, I didn’t hear any complaints a few seconds ago.” He looked up into my eyes and gave me a wicked grin.  
I let out a defeated sigh. “What can I say? My desire for you almost always outweighs my resolve.”  
“What? Not my Scarlett. Surely you jest!” he teased.  
“Oh don’t act like it’s some big surprise. I’m wise to your act. You know exactly the power you have over me. And you play on it.” I accused playfully.  
“I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.” His expression was the very definition of innocent as he thrust up into me again, the feel of his half-erection moving inside me again causing me to give him an involuntary moan.  
“Suuuure you don’t.” My eyes fell to the floor to see the scrap of fabric that formerly made up my underwear. “You owe me a new pair of panties, by the way.”  
“Well I honestly very much prefer you without them. Besides, you’re wearing my shirt so I’m going to go ahead and call it even.” He grinned.  
“Ugh. You’re impossible.” I smiled before giving him a quick kiss and climbing off to lay down beside him. Without missing a beat, he put my arm around him and rested his head on my chest. I instinctively began stroking his hair and humming a familiar song.

“Mmm…” he purred. “Just when I thought it impossible for you to get any more beautiful, you sing to me.” I could feel him smile as he moved to hold me tighter. Aaaand I was blushing again. Blast!

Then, just as we were about to drift off to sleep, we heard some rather unpleasant noises coming from the room where Jowan was being held.

“Scarlett… what is that?” Alistair asked.  
“Well,” I began, “You’re not going to believe this…”


	30. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate for a diversion before facing Eamon, Alistair begs Scarlett to take a slight detour to Honnleath. Darkspawn she had anticipated, but the small town has much more in store than Scarlett had bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd add some much needed levity to this story. Enjoy, and I hope to hear from you!

“Try me…” Alistair looked up at me with an arched brow.  
“Have it your way, but let the record show I was in favor of going to sleep and dealing with all this unpleasantness in the morning.”  
“Yeah yeah yeah. Now what’s going on?” he asked firmly.  
“You getting sick… it wasn’t due to natural causes. Someone was casting a spell on you… poisoning you.”  
“Poisoning me? Why? What did I do?”  
“You’re not going to like this…” I warned.  
“Maker’s breath, will you stop beating around the bush already?”  
“Fine. Isolde ordered Jowan to poison you so she could assume the throne with Eamon.”  
“WHAT?!” He sat up immediately, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “I don’t even want the throne! Eamon can have it! And correct me if I’m wrong, but is he not still lying unconscious in a bed somewhere? What was she thinking?!”  
“She had… contingencies… in place. Should Eamon not recover.” I explained.  
“I… I don’t believe it. I mean, I know Isolde never exactly warmed to me but to hire someone to kill me? That’s low, even for her.” 

And I probably shouldn’t have done it, least of all in front of Alistair, but I gave voice to the thought that had been running through my head from the very moment we found out who was behind this whole plot. 

“I should have killed her when I had the chance. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but now…” I looked away from his eyes and let the rest of the sentence trail off.  
“Don’t you do that, Scarlett. Don’t internalize the blame yet again when it belongs somewhere else. We did do the right thing by going to the Circle to get help. I know we did.” He declared obstinately.  
I sat up as my words grew more and more heated. “You almost died, Alistair! Andraste’s blood, as far as I can tell, you actually did die. It literally took a miracle to bring you back. None of this would have happened if I’d had the spine to do what needed to be done. I should have—”  
“Are you even listening to yourself? How could we have possibly known this would happen? How could you possibly have condemned an innocent woman to die when another option was staring you right in the face?”  
“Innocent?! Is that some sort of a joke? She exiled you from your childhood home, lied to her husband and hid the fact that her son was a mage by hiring a maleficar to deal with him, who in turn, poisoned the Arl. Then she lied to Teagan and put his life in danger by ordering him to come to that Maker-forsaken castle alone, knowing full well what was in store for him. And when we stepped in and did all the dirty work and cleaned up her mess, what does she do the first chance she gets? Sends that same blood mage to take you out of the picture, all so she can sit on a throne and look pretty. Only in a world this shitty would someone like that be considered innocent.” 

Okay, rant over. I completely lost my temper. I couldn’t help it. After everything that bitch had put us through, I just didn’t have an ounce leniency left in me. 

“Fine! Not the best word choice, I’ll grant you. But in no way do I regret the decision to spare her. It was the right thing to do at the time. People aren’t guilty until proven innocent, Scarlett. It should be the other way around.” The growing anger was apparent in his voice now, too. Wonderful.  
“A pretty philosophy. I wonder how many truly innocent lives are lost because those who can do something hesitate to act.”  
“Or how many people we might wrongly convict if we act on nothing but a damn hunch.” He countered.  
“Fine. You go right ahead and keep on thinking that way and I’ll just keep praying that your principles don’t get us all killed. But know this: Next time, I’m willing to bet my life that we’re fresh out of miracles to save the day.” I lowered the volume of my voice but my words were so cold I almost didn’t believe they came out of my mouth.  
“Oh, so we’re having this fight again, are we?” He crossed his arms in a huff.  
“We’re not fighting. We’re… discussing. Passionately.” I explained and tried to regain control of my anger before continuing. Well, using my head wasn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s try speaking from the heart this time. “I… I almost lost you, Alistair. Just a few hours ago you were dead to the world. Before you, I had lost everything and everyone that means anything to me. You… you saved my life. In so many ways. I can’t lose you, too. I just… I won’t survive it. That loss, that loneliness… it eats you up inside until you’re nothing but a hollow shell. I can’t go through that again. Can you not see why I would go to any lengths to prevent that from happening? To keep you with me?” I felt tears beginning to well up in my eyes. Damnit. 

He moved to wrap me in his arms and rocked me gently and kissed my hair. “I’m sorry. You always seem so strong I sometimes forget even you have a few chinks in your armor. I understand, of course I do. You’re all I have, too.” After a pregnant pause, he spoke again, “You know I must say, you’re exceedingly sexy when you’re cross…” 

I tried my best to fight the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It didn’t work. That bastard. 

“Don’t change the subject.” The hints of my smile lingered as I broke away from his embrace to meet his eyes.  
He hung his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Everyone’s always after that almighty crown.” He scoffed. “I hate it, Scarlett. I hate that no matter how well I try to hide, how hard I try to fight it, I can’t seem to escape it.”  
I took his hands in mine looked up to meet his eyes. “I love you, Alistair. And that is why I need you to listen to what I’m about to say very carefully, okay?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“There is no escaping it. There is no hiding. Not anymore. I know you never asked for this, but sometimes we must make the best of the hand we’re dealt in this life, however shitty that hand may be. You were born into a world of fine titles and power beyond reproach and with that birthright comes specific obligations.”  
“So, that’s it then? I have no say in what becomes of my own life?”  
“Of course you have a say. But I know you. I know that if you feel this country needs you to step up, you’re going to do it. It’s just who you are. It’s infuriating sometimes,” I smirked, “but it’s also one of the reasons why I love you.” 

He let go of my hands and looked away from my gaze. It looked like he was searching for some way to argue, to prove me wrong, but no argument came. All I got was the look of heartbreak in his eyes as he found my hands again. 

“It’s so unfair.” He whispered solemnly.  
I nodded in agreement. “I know it is. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”  
“Leave it to you to get poetic at a time like this.” He gave me a half smile.  
“I just mean that I know it’s a huge burden.” I held his hands tighter in mine. “But it’s not yours to bear alone. You have me.” I almost added a “for now,” but he had enough to contend with. No need to give him even more to worry about.  
He leaned in to brush his lips gently against mine before he whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  
“I hope we never have to find out.” I whispered back. 

He rested his forehead against mine and let the sad silence hang in the air for a few moments.  
Then, in typical Alistair fashion, he tried to find the bright side. 

“Who knows? Maybe when Eamon wakes up he’ll have some other solution and I won’t have to become king and you and I can run away from all this, once the job’s done. I hear Orlais has a huge library. And more cheese than I could ever hope to eat in my lifetime.” He smirked.  
I let out a short laugh. “Dare to dream, Alistair. As for me, well, I’m pretty sure there’s a throne waiting with your name on it.”  
“Well, either way, you’re not going anywhere, do you hear me? I absolutely forbid it. We’re a team, you and I, remember?”  
I nodded. “And a damn good one.” 

He smiled and kissed me again before we heard the ruckus coming from Jowan’s room resume. 

“Ugh. I suppose I should go investigate.” I groaned as I began to get up from bed.  
“Oh let me. I feel like I haven’t left this bed in ages. Besides, you’re… scantily clad.” He grinned.  
“And whose fault is that?!” I accused.  
“Oh, I wasn’t dodging the blame. Merely making an observation.” 

He sprung up from bed, hopped into his trousers, and left the room to see what was happening. It took every ounce of will I had to keep my eyes open as I awaited his return. It wasn’t enough. I fell asleep within five minutes of Alistair closing the door behind him. 

He climbed back into bed and woke me gently with a kiss; I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.  
“Everything’s fine. The mage was trying to make a break for it while Sten was playing with Meatball. I took care of it.”  
“Sten was playing with Meatball?” I asked, completely befuddled.  
“That Qunari loves the little furball. Have you not noticed?”  
“No, I … I guess I haven’t. Interesting. And how did you take care of it, exactly?”  
“Sometimes the best solution is the simplest one.” He explained while bowing his head.  
“Meaning…”  
“I punched his lights out.” Alistair beamed proudly.  
I chuckled softly. “Well, that’ll do it. No attack of conscience this time?”  
“We caught that mage red-handed. No moral dilemma there. He deserves everything that’s coming to him.” 

I nodded some more as I nestled into his chest, ready to fall back asleep at any given moment. 

“Scarlett?” Alistair called.  
“Hmm?”  
“Can I ask a favor?”  
“Anything.” I smiled softly.  
“Do you think we could take a bit of a…detour before returning to Redcliffe?”  
“A detour?”  
“I just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back there yet. With all that’s happened… I just… could use a break. No talk of kings or poison or deception. Just a brief respite. Just for a day or two.”  
“Did you have somewhere in particular in mind?”  
“Well, we do have that control rod that merchant gave you. What was the town called? Honnleath? It sounded… nice…”  
“Overrun by darkspawn sounds nice, does it?” I smirked.  
“If the choice is between being forced to rule Ferelden or fighting darkspawn, I am going to choose darkspawn every damn time.” He smirked back. “Besides, it feels like forever since the last time I’ve seen battle. I might be rusty. Better to be in fighting shape before we face Isolde, trust me.”  
“Every day we delay the greater the chance of Jowan’s escape, you realize…”  
“Oh come on. There’s seven of us and one of him. I think we can handle it.”  
“We don’t have the best track record on this one. Remember that time he was following us for days and we were none the wiser?” I argued.  
“Well, that’s because we didn’t even know there was a threat. We have the upper hand now.”  
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know…”  
He lifted my chin so my eyes met his before giving me a soft kiss. “Please?” 

Ugh. How in the Maker’s name was I supposed to say no to that? I gave him a slow nod which earned me a brilliant smile before he kissed me again. 

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”  
“You have but somehow I never tire of hearing it.” I smiled back before fitting my body against his and cuddling him. “Now can we please, for the love of Andraste, get some sleep?”  
He let out a slight chuckle before kissing my head. “Goodnight, my lady.” 

…

“Ahh, and the young prince finally makes his morning debut. It is good to see you up and about, my young friend.” Zevran greeted Alistair as we emerged from the bedroom.  
“Thanks but, would you please stop calling me that?”  
“What? A prince? It is who you are, is it not?”  
“It’s a… touchy subject, Zev.” I explained.  
“Very well. You Fereldens are so finicky.” He observed as he gave Alistair and I our share of breakfast.  
“When do we make for Redcliffe Castle?” Leliana posed. “The thought of a blood mage in our midst for too long makes me uneasy.”  
“You are constantly surrounded by a cold-blooded assassin, a murderous Qunari, a vicious war hound, and two Grey Wardens, yet it is one little blood mage who worries you?” Morrigan asked, clearly insulted by Leliana’s previous comment.  
“The blood mage is not on our side. It is that simple. I want to be rid of him as quickly as possible.”  
“We’re actually going to head south first.” I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping against hope that none of them would call me out on this rather odd and somewhat illogical decision. Alistair just kept his head down and continued to work on his breakfast.  
“South? What is south?” Leliana asked.  
“Well, there’s hopefully a golem we can control and a slew of darkspawn to kill.”  
“You mean you’re actually going to try making that… thing that peculiar merchant gave you work? Now? When we’re so close to healing Eamon and—”  
“Honnleath is close by. As Morrigan pointed out some time ago, a golem could be an incredibly powerful weapon in the fight to come. After we secure it we go to Redcliffe, then we’ll go north to Orzammar. If you look at a map it makes perfect sense to first go south and work our way up. We’ll save time.” Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.  
“We could do with some additional supplies.” Wynne suggested. “We’ve lingered here too long and this village had few resources to begin with. I am sure the trading is more robust in Honnleath. Given the condition we left Redcliffe in… that town is likely our best opportunity to stock up.” Bless that mage! 

Leliana just shrugged and finished eating. And no one, not even Sten, said another word about it. I couldn’t believe I was getting off that easy. Huh… I guess we maybe had a couple of miracles left after all. 

…

We loaded up the horses and rode south in pairs. I managed to ride with Alistair this time and not get too distracted. Hooray progress! Leliana was riding with Zevran, Morrigan was riding with Wynne for a change, and Sten rode with Jowan to dissuade the mage from getting any bright ideas about making a run for it. 

“So, I have a question for you, Zevran.” Alistair posed. Oh boy. This should be good. It felt like years since we’d had some good old-fashioned travel banter. 

“You’re here, at least in part, to get away from the Crows, right?”  
“That is indeed true.” Zevran replied.  
“So when this is over, what do you intend to do with yourself? You can’t go back to Antiva, I assume.”  
“What I do depends in large part upon your fellow Grey Warden. I am not a free man, as it were.”  
“I told you that you’re free, Zev.” I interjected. “I realize that may be a difficult concept to grasp but really, you’re welcome to do whatever you want.”  
“Yes, let’s go with that. What if you could do whatever you wanted?” Alistair asked.  
“Oh, I don't know. Aren’t you going to be king? Perhaps you have people you need killed?”  
“I probably do, yes.”  
“…What?! You who only last night argued that people are fundamentally good and should be considered innocent until proven guilty are admitting you may have need of an assassin?!” I could not believe what I was hearing.  
“Hey, I’m just being realistic here. I thought you’d be proud. Besides, there’s a difference between compassion and stupidity.” Alistair retorted.  
“See? It’s that sort of thinking that makes me think I have a future in this fine country of yours.”  
“That’s assuming I would hire you.”  
“Ooh that’s harsh, Alistair. Although Zev did fail rather spectacularly at killing us, I do think he’s proven his worth in other ways.” Was I… I was. I was defending him. I couldn’t believe it. What have I become?  
“Oh sure. He’s remarkably skilled at losing his clothes in card games and shamelessly flirting with the woman I love.”  
“True, but he’s also pretty handy in a fight.” I smirked.  
“Why thank you, my lady. As for you, my royal friend, that’s the lovely thing about kings. They make for good business, as the client or the target.”  
Alistair let out a big sigh. “And people wonder why someone might not want to be king.”  


“On another note, might I offer you a bit of advice, my good friend Alistair?” Zevran posed after a beat.  
“I like my hair the way it is, thank you.”  
“Truly? As you wish... though my advice is regarding something else completely. It has to do with your recent... exertions with your fellow Grey Warden that I overheard.”  
“My...? Oh.”  
I facepalmed. “I’m literally right here, Zev. Are you sure you want to go there?”  
“Absolutely! This will benefit both of you. It did seem as if you just got going when all grew quiet. You are... feeling all right, yes? Perhaps you are tired?”  
“Oh for the love of… I had just recovered from nearly dying! We aren’t talking about this, are we? Did I hit my head?”  
“I have some roots from home that you may chew if you need energy. As for volume, perhaps you ought to try arching your—”  
“Whoa! Whoa! Awkward!” Alistair exclaimed, his face a deep shade of crimson. I just giggled. I couldn’t help it.  
“I’ll say it again: You Fereldens are so finicky. How will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?”  
“Not listening! La la la la la!” Alistair stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed until Zevran turned his attention to Leliana.  


“So, I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana.”  
“Some time for me? I do not know what you mean.” Leliana had playing coy down to a science.  
“Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no?”  
“Of course it has been some time. There are more important things in life than ‘knocking boots,’ Zevran.” She admitted.  
“Oh, I’ll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time.” Now I was starting to turn red. Yep, that’s Alistair and I to a T: A pair of beet red giggling fools with big swords.  
“That is a very personal question.” Leliana shot back.  
“I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release.”  
“That’s very kind of you to be concerned for my well-being, Zevran.” Leliana flirted back. Oh my…  
“Let it never be said that I’m not here to help when the call comes.”  
“Maker’s breath, can we please change the subject?!” I begged. 

That’s when I heard Leliana gasp and cover her mouth with her hand. 

“Maker have mercy!” she cried. Then I looked up and saw what she was seeing. Honnleath was a charming little town. Much warmer than Haven, lots of greenery and fresh air… and corpses hanging from rafters. 

“Oh. That bodes well.” I commented glibly. 

And that’s when the first wave of darkspawn attacked us. Alistair and I unsheathed our swords. He hopped down and I remained mounted as we charged them. There were only about four or five. By now it took just about as much effort to dispatch so few darkspawn as it does to tie a shoe. 

And then we saw it. A big stone statue in the middle of town. 

“That is a golem, I believe. Damaged, perhaps beyond repair. There may be a way to reactivate it, though that is not necessarily wise.” Wynne observed.  
“Well we didn’t come all the way here to simply leave it be.” I explained before clearing my throat and pointing the control rod at the stone monstrosity. “Dulef gar.” 

Nothing. Nada. 

“DULEF GAR.” I said louder. 

Zip. Zilch. 

“Fantastic. Time well spent.” I rolled my eyes.  
“Well, we’re here now. Might as well look around. There might be more darkspawn that need killing, right?” Alistair posed.  
“I suppose.” I replied with a sigh. “Try that door.” I pointed to our right.  
“Which one? This one?” Alistair went up to the wrong door. Weird.  
“No… I hear them. Darkspawn. Behind the other door. Can’t you?” I asked him.  
He closed his eyes and really concentrated. “Right. Yes, of course. You’re right. Let’s go.” 

Alistair led the way into the cellar—something he never ever did. It was adorable, really. As though he’d been a caged puppy and had finally been let out to explore. And sure enough, as soon as we descended the stairs, there were more darkspawn to be fought. After they were defeated and we moved a little further into the room, we saw some kind of… magical barrier shielding the townsfolk from harm. 

“You, weren’t sent by the Bann were you? To save us?” A blond man asked.  
“To be brutally honest, I doubt anyone thought you were still alive.” I replied.  
He let out a short laugh. “I suppose I should be grateful that someone came at all then. Thank you. But if you weren’t sent by someone, why are you here? If you don’t mind my asking.”  
“Well, I’m actually looking for whoever owned that statue outside.”  
“Oooh I think I see. You bought the control rod, didn’t you? You came here looking for Shale.” 

The man lowered the barrier and beckoned me closer. 

“That damnable golem brought us nothing but trouble. My mother sold the rod years ago after it killed my father, and good riddance!”  
“Okay, beginning to think waking that thing is not the most brilliant idea.” Alistair asserted.  
“Killed your father? Seriously?” I asked. 

He explained that he found the statue near the very much broken body of his once upon a time war hero father. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean the statue was involved in his murder. It does, however, make for a very good case. Still, a high dragon this thing was not. If things went south, I was fairly certain we could deal with it. 

“Look, I know you already saved my life, and I’m grateful, but my daughter is inside the laboratory. She was afraid and ran too far in before I could stop her.”  
“And you’re not going after her yourself because…”  
“My father built defenses to keep strangers out. I knew about the barrier. I had the key for it but the rest of it? Well… we never came down here. Ever.”  
I let out a big sigh. “We’ll see if we can find her.” 

And so deeper into the creepy cellar we went, fighting even more darkspawn along the way. And then, by what seemed like yet another miracle, we found the little squirt alive and playing with a cat. 

“Oh look! Someone’s come to play! You have come to play, haven’t you?” The little girl greeted me.  
“Good, you’re safe. Your father was worried.”  
“…Father? Oh, you can tell him I’m fine. Maybe he’ll come and stay with us, too.”

Something was definitely amiss here. She said the word father as though it were a term she’d never heard before in her life. And as I stared at this sweet little girl with the golden pigtails, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Connor… Oh no…

“Anyway, you should go if you’re not going to play. Kitty finds you distracting.” The girl explained.  
“The cat… finds me distracting?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my disbelief.  
“Kitty is clever. She says you’ll want to take me back to my father, but I’m not going. She would be lonely!”  
“Nothing you say will convince Amalia to go with you. She loves only me now. I am her friend, while you are just a stranger.” Yep, that sure was the cat speaking. The cat with the glowing purple eyes. Who possesses a cat? I mean, honestly?  
“What have you done to her?”  
“I have done nothing. I am all but powerless. I cannot leave this chamber. No, Amalia found me. After decades of isolation, her company is… welcome.”  
“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse. I’m not leaving without her.”  
“Indeed. Let me propose a… compromise of sorts. Release me, mortal, and let me have the girl. Let us return to her father and leave this place forever.”  
“You’re alluding to possession, I take it.”  
“That’s such a crude way of putting it. I do not wish to harm Amalia. Merely to see the world through her eyes. Is that so wrong?”  
“I’ll free you and you can have the girl.” I lied through my teeth. In case the others couldn’t tell, I nonchalantly crossed my fingers behind my back so they wouldn’t raise a big stink about it. That seemed to work. I heard not a sound from Alistair nor Leliana nor Wynne—the people I expected to most strongly protest. 

“Thank you. You are very gracious. The mage’s wards hold me to this chamber and only a mortal may approach them. There is a trick to disarming the wards, but I do not know it. Perhaps you will succeed where the girl failed.”

I moved closer to the wards and examined them. Then I clapped my hands and rubbed them together excitedly. 

“You’re really stoked about this, huh?” Alistair teased.  
“It’s a puzzle, my dear. I’ve come to realize I’m pretty damn good at those.”  
“It’s true. You should have seen her in action when we had to retrieve the Urn. It was nothing short of extraordinary.” Leliana complimented.  
“Well now, let’s not get crazy.” I replied shyly.  
“No, she is not wrong. When it comes to brute strength I suppose Alistair is good for something but insofar as mental aptitude, you have the lion’s share.” Morrigan added.  
“Hey!” Alistair whined. 

By that point I was already engrossed by the dancing flames on the rotating devices that lay before me. 

“We need to make one long trail of flame that leads to the edge by moving the tiles.” I explained.  
“But how are we to know which direction the flame will take?” Zevran asked.  
“The arrows on the tiles tell you. We just have to… rejigger them.”  
“‘Rejigger’ them? Is that the technical term, oh brilliant one?” Alistair smirked.  
“Hey, my brain can figure this out so we can get out of here or my brain can waste energy being articulate. Your choice.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He just chuckled. 

I stepped on the tiles to maneuver them and only got burned about five times. Blast. Still, I managed to complete the puzzle and disarm the wards. 

“Well, what do you know? Color me impressed.” Alistair beamed.  
“You doubted me?!” I feigned offense.  
“Not even for a second.” He winked. 

“Yes! I can feel the magic fading! Oh… I had forgotten how it feels not to be caged!” The cat was seemingly in a state of complete and total ecstasy. Weird. So so weird.  
“I said I’d free you. I didn’t say I’d let you live.” I explained dispassionately as I drew my sword.  
“Betrayer! You will not take the girl! She is mine!” The demon cried. 

And so Amalia got spooked and ran off and we fought the cat… demon… thing. Maker’s breath, why is it that demons have extraordinary otherworldly powers yet they can’t be bothered to dress themselves? Nobody wants to see that crap. 

“A body like that and she longs to possess someone else’s? Such a shame.” Zevran commented. 

Okay, maybe Zevran wants to see that crap. 

We struck it down with little trouble and returned to Matthias, who kindly gave us the correct command phrase to awaken the golem. Booyah! 

We made our way back to the statue. When we got there, I held out the rod and shouted in my most commanding voice, “Dulen harn.” 

And it woke up. Only… it more than woke up. It spoke. This, apparently, was not your average golem.

“I knew the day would come when someone would find the control rod. And not even a mage this time. Probably stumbled across the rod by accident, I suppose. Typical.”  
“Er… hello to you, too.” I greeted.  
“You could be a little bit thankful, you know. She did just bring you to life.” Leliana posed.  
“It thinks I should be thankful? Of course it does. Why would it not? I stood here on this spot and watched all the wretched little villagers scurry around me for, oh, I have no idea how long. Many, many years.”  
“And the villagers had no idea they were being watched? Creepy.” Alistair commented.  
“Well go on then. Out with it. What is its command? It does have the control rod, doesn’t it?”  
“It sure does. Right in its hand.” I waved the control rod in front of it.  
“I see the control rod, yet I feel… Go on. Order me to do something.”  
“Er… okay. Give Zevran a hug.”  
“Now, now. I don’t care much for foreign objects invading my personal space. Well... usually.” The elf quipped.  
“And… nothing. I feel nothing. I feel no compulsion to carry out its command. I suppose this means the rod is… broken?”  
“So… what now? You go on a crazy killing rampage?” I asked.  
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. Well, I wouldn’t mind killing the birds… those evil birds and their foul droppings. I could crush them all!”  
“Well, it looks like you now have a little something called ‘free will’.” I explained.  
“But… what should I do? I… I have no purpose. What did it intend to do with me?”  
“Well… I’m a Grey Warden and I’m attempting to depose a tyrant, end a civil war, avenge my parents, and destroy an old god inhabiting the form of a huge, practically impossible-to-kill dragon along with all its evil darkspawn minions. Wanna come?” I smirked.  
“Are we seriously just going to ignore the fact that this thing killed its former master?” Alistair asked.  
“…Did I kill him? I hope I did kill him! Perhaps the last order he barked was, ‘Golem, stop crushing my head!’ Ha!” The golem professed.  
“That’s rather cold of you.” Leliana observed.  
“What can I say? I have a heart of stone.” 

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I love a good pun. Alistair shot me a nasty glare. 

“Are you certain you want to bring that… thing… with us? It could be dangerous. And large.”  
“Oh honey, use your imagination! Think of it as a… portable battering ram. Besides, it speaks my language!”  
“…What language is that?”  
“Sarcasm.”  
He let out a defeated sigh. “Fine.”  
“I will follow it about then… for now. I am called Shale, by the way.”  
“Scarlett. A pleasure.”  
Shale began walk toward me as it spoke. “This… should be interesting.”


	31. All in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the gang makes their way toward Redcliffe, Scarlett gives Morrigan an important job--filling Leliana with resentment. New bonds are strengthened, however, when Leliana, Scarlett, and Zevran recall those they've loved and lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and as always, I appreciate your comments and kudos!

From the moment we left Honnleath to journey toward Redcliffe, Alistair was a mopey, sulky mess. I did feel somewhat bad for the lad, but every time I tried to engage in any sort of conversation with him, he seemed determined to remain withdrawn. Fine. To be completely honest, I was only half paying attention anyway. I found our new companion completely and utterly fascinating. It was like a walking, talking piece of history. The knowledge it must possess! The things we could learn from it!

Unfortunately, horseback was not really an option for Shale, so back to walking we went. I did notice that the golem let out an audible groan whenever it saw me draw near, but I so didn’t care. I’m inquisitive by nature; I can’t help it! 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Shale groaned, obviously extremely uninterested in whatever I might have to say.  
“Not really, no. Am I really irritating you? I can find other ways to occupy my time. I just… you seem so different than what I expected.”  
“Different? Different than what? Different than a statue? Different than a log? Should I talk in a monotone? ‘Yes master. I exist to serve the master. I shall kill for the master and only for the master.’” Shale droned on.  
“Ick, no. I don’t care for that at all.” I grimaced.  
“Perhaps it expected me to have a booming voice? Recite limericks? Hahaha. I can recite limericks if it likes.”  
“Oh my Maker YES. A thousand times yes!” I exclaimed excitedly. The thought of a golem reciting limericks was just about the most hilarious thing I could possibly think of. “Are they dirty limericks? Please say yes.” I had started giggling before Shale even began to answer.  
“Mostly they involve slaughtering pigeons in creative and invasive manners.”  
“Hmm… not quite the subject matter I was hoping for, but I’m still intrigued. Do go on.” 

Shale cleared its throat. 

“There once was a wretched little bird.  
Its entire existence was absurd.  
It landed on me,  
And though it tried to flee,  
I crushed it so hard it ruptured.” 

I began a slow clap and Shale did its version of a curtsey, which was probably one of the best things I’d ever seen. Oh my Maker, in no way did I regret the decision to recruit this golem. 

“But to revert back to your original assumption, I have never met another golem. I have no idea what one might be like, or why I wouldn’t be like them. Why? Has it met other golems? Did they not sound as I do?” It asked.  
“I can’t say I have. But, well, from the little I’ve read about them, golems rarely speak, let alone recite limericks. You just seem very… animated. Not to imply that being different is bad, of course.”  
“Did I say it was bad?” Shale scoffed. “It thinks I hang on its every word, waiting for approval? I don’t know what other golems might be like, but I am already superior by virtue of my free will. This is a good thing.”  
“I agree. I can only imagine the things you’ve seen. To just have the time to sit an observe and absorb for centuries. Just thinking about the potential is incredible.”  
“Ugh, you humans are always such small thinkers. Sitting and observing is the boring part. Imagine the other benefits. No need to eat or sleep or perform other… functions. Walk underwater. Crush the heads of every opponent! The possibilities are limitless. Barring the occasional 30 years or so of paralysis, there is little to compare. Now stop talking so much. The wagging of its moist little tongue is distracting.” 

I gave a slight nod and decided to catch up with Alistair. I was going to get that boy talking or die trying. 

“You don’t find my moist tongue distracting, do you, honey?” I whispered teasingly in his ear. 

All I got out of him were the quiet beginnings of a purr before he remembered he’s in cranky mode and was intent on remaining that way. Damnit. So close! 

“Tired of playing with your new toy already?” He asked coldly. Not ideal but, at least I’d gotten him talking.  
“It’s not a toy. It’s a fearsome, almost indestructible weapon. Who also happens to be sentient. Not to mention, it’s also super freaking cool!” I explained, making no attempt to mask my enthrallment with our newest recruit.  
He just turned his nose up in the air. “I don’t trust it.”  
“You never trust anyone when they’re new. If it were up to you it would still just be the two of us.”  
“Not true!” He argued defensively.  
“Oh? Shall we go through the list? Morrigan? You didn’t like her from the day we met her in the Wilds. Sten? Who could trust a murderer? Leliana? She had visions. She must be crazy. Zevran? He tried to kill us. Need I go on?”  
“What about Wynne? I totally would’ve recruited Wynne.” He argued.  
“Nope. She left a bad first impression on you by a) being a mage, and b) saying she was trying to forget what happened at Ostagar.” I countered.  
“Fine. Well, it would have been the three of us. I liked Meatball from day one.”  
“He is objectively the best dog in the world.” I grinned as I looked behind us to check on him. 

He had been such a good guard over Jowan, growling and snarling when the mage did so little as even glance in his general direction. Sten was doing a pretty bang-up job as well. We’d all offered to relieve him of his guard duties, but Sten seemed to really enjoy keeping an eye on the maleficar. I have no idea why. Maybe it gave him a renewed sense of purpose. Or maybe he didn’t trust anyone to do the job half as well. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t about to argue it. Pick your battles, Scarlett. 

“Oh yes. Objectively. You’re not at all biased.”  
“Well, he did save the love of my life. Whom I still love, by the way, despite his rather prickly demeanor this fine morning.” I smiled softly and nudged his shoulder to try and get him to loosen up a little.  
He let out a sigh. “I know, I know. I love you, too. I’m sorry I’m such a grumpy bugger. I’m just… really not looking forward to going back to Redcliffe. Really, really not looking forward to it.”  
“Because of facing Isolde?” I queried.  
“Partially. Also seeing Eamon again. I mean, I do want to make him better of course but, once he wakes up… this whole king thing. It becomes real. Running my sword through the belly of darkspawn I understand. Playing politics? Settling disputes? That’s not me, Scarlett. I hate the idea of being stuffed in a gilded cage I can never break out of, you know? I’m a square peg. Being king is a round hole. I’m oil. Being king is water.”  
“I get it, dear. No further analogies necessary.” I smirked as I laced his fingers with mine. “I’m going to tell you something my father told me when he thought the day might come when I had to rule Highever: ‘No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need remember is this: to thine own self be true.’”  
“I’m fairly sure I understand but do give me the ‘for dummies’ version just in case.” He smirked as he squeezed my hand in his.  
“It means nothing you will go through is worse than what someone else has already managed to overcome. Listen to that little voice in your head that lets you know wrong from right, and you’ll be just fine.”  
He gave me a nod. “He sounds like a very wise man.”  
I felt a sad smile play across my face as I thought of him. “He was.” My voice was suddenly gravelly as I felt a lump form in my throat and swallowed it just as quickly. “For some reason, that little piece of advice made me feel better. Less alone. Calenhad the Great, Maric the Savior, whoever… History makes them seem like gods. They were just men, Alistair. Just like you. And you know what? I’m sure they had more than their fair share of fuck-ups. They just did the best they could. And that’s all anyone can ask for.” 

He pulled me toward him, scooped me up in his arms and gave me a deep, breathtaking kiss.

“Wow!” I exclaimed once I caught my breath. “What in the Maker’s name did I say to earn such an unprecedented public display of affection?”  
“You just always know what to say to make everything better somehow.” He gave me a bright smile.  
I gave him a warm smile back before it dawned on me. “Oh! I almost forgot! I have something for you.”  
“…For me?” 

I nodded as I rummaged through my pack to find the figure I’d pilfered while retrieving the Urn with the hope it would raise his spirits a bit. Rummaging… rummaging… Aha! 

I extended the gift to him and smiled. “I don’t really know why I took it. It just… seemed like you.”  
“It’s… it’s a little stone warrior. Is this really for me?”  
I nodded.  
“Really?!”  
I nodded some more before he wrapped his arms around me for another kiss.  
“I absolutely love it! Thank you!” He beamed. “It’s so sweet that you were thinking of me while you were facing Maker knows what to get to those ashes. You must really be quite taken with me.” He winked.  
“Damn. You found me out. Am I really that transparent?” I rolled my eyes. “Of course I was thinking of you! Getting back to you was the only thing that kept me going. After defeating that high dragon I didn’t think I’d have the energy to do anything else but… somehow I made it back to your side.” I smiled.  
“WHAT?! You defeated a high dragon?!” he shrieked. “Without me?!”  
I let out a slight chuckle. “It wasn’t easy, trust me. Your absence was definitely felt.”  
He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re an incredible woman, you know that?”  
I felt myself turn a bright shade of pink. Blast!  
“And Maker’s breath are you beautiful when you blush.” He grinned.  
Aaaaand I blushed even deeper. Wonderful.  
“If you keep showering me with compliments like this, one day I’m bound to believe them.” I smirked.  
“You think I’m lying when I tell you you’re beautiful?” he asked, the hurt slightly present in his eyes.  
“Oh no, I didn’t mean that. I just… it’s hard for me to think of myself that way. I’ve always felt… I don’t know. Awkward. Out of place.” I admitted softly as I pursed my lips to the side and my eyes fell to the ground.  
He stepped in front of me and lifted my chin with two of his fingers. “Look into my eyes.” He implored gently. “Your beauty… it’s more than just physical, although, Maker preserve me, you have that in spades. It’s… your very being. So full of conviction and goodness and strength. If you feel out of place in this world, it’s because you’re too good for it.” He paused. “Trust me, I know a little something about never feeling like you belong. But I’ve come to learn that my place is right here, by your side.” 

Merciful Andraste. For someone who always claims to never know the right thing to say, he somehow always manages to have moments like that one; moments that make my heart so filled to the brim with love and adoration I feel like it might explode. I gave him the biggest, most genuine smile I could manage before I pulled him in for a passionate kiss. 

Then I heard an audible groan that I do believe came from Morrigan. Yikes. For awhile there, I forgot we had an audience. Splendid. More blushing, coming right up. 

Wynne just sighed dreamily. “Ah, young love.”  
“Oh do go on. You two are making me ill.” Morrigan deadpanned. 

Alistair let out a slight chuckle and whispered against my lips, “Two birds with one stone. I could get to like this.” And then he kissed me again. Alright, perhaps the funk had finally been lifted! All it took was making Morrigan sick to lift his spirits. Go figure. 

As we pressed on, we stumbled upon a clearing. I moved to the very front to stop everyone in their tracks. Only… no one seemed to notice. Everyone was engaged in their own little conversations, laughing and carrying on. I had to admit, it warmed my cockles. We were… something of a family now. Although the circumstances of our coming together could not have possibly been any worse, I will still be forever grateful that we came together at all. I was robbed of my family, but the Maker saw fit to grant me a new one. Or maybe it wasn’t Him at all. I don’t know. It might have just been a happy coincidence. Whatever the reason, we’d all managed to find one another and I was beginning to feel… well, whole again. 

Alistair, noticing my struggle to get their attention, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. That seemed to do the trick. 

“So, it’s come to my attention that we’re getting close to Redcliffe and we don’t really have a game plan for dealing with this whole Isolde situation. You know me; I’m a planner. I’m also open to any ideas.”

“Isolde is a frail woman and Redcliffe’s forces have likely not recovered from the undead attacks. I see no obstacle here. We march right up to those doors and meet our enemy.” Sten explained matter-of-factly. 

“Call me naïve, but I would like to believe that Isolde acted alone in her treachery.” I looked in Jowan’s direction. “Can you confirm?” 

Sten temporarily removed the gag from his mouth. “No one knew but she and I, I swear!” I nodded and Sten took that as his cue to replace the cloth. 

“I do not wish to harm those charged with protecting her if it can be avoided. Those men are blameless in all of this. Not to mention, we’ll need all the knights Redcliffe can spare in the fight to come.”  
“We need Teagan. He is the only one those men, not to mention Eamon, might listen to other than Isolde. We need him on our side.” Alistair explained.  
I nodded. “Makes sense. The question is, how do we get to him before Isolde’s spies know we’re coming?”  
“I could ride ahead on horseback.” Leliana suggested. “I will take the same secret passage into the castle Teagan told us about when we went in to rescue Connor.”  
I bit my lip in contemplation. “I don’t know. The castle is still several hours’ ride from here; Maker only knows what you might run into along the way. And we have no idea where in the castle Teagan might be. You’d be wandering around blindly, hoping you don’t cross paths with Isolde or her guards.”  
“I could help with that.” Alistair offered. “Teagan’s schedule has been the same routine since I’ve known him—like clockwork. Chantry for prayer in the morning, fencing lessons after tea, read and answer any correspondence in the study before supper, a snifter of brandy before bed… I could go on.”  
I tapped my finger against my chin as I considered this. “Alright, I would estimate Redcliffe is likely three hours from this spot on horseback. Yes?”

Everyone muttered something different but all seemed to agree. 

“What would he be doing three hours from now?” I looked at Alistair before looking at the position of the sun in the sky to gauge the time. 

“You’ll likely be able to catch him in the study if you hurry.”  
“It’s risky, but I suppose it’s the best we can do. Zevran, go with her, please. I prefer the odds of two of you together if you somehow get discovered.”  
“And what do we do when we find him?” Zevran asked.  
“Bring him back here. We need to explain the situation and rally his support against Isolde.”  
“Not to poke a hole in your plans, my beauty, but this Teagan… he has met Leliana and I but once. Will he really trust strangers enough to come away with us into the night?”  
“Hmm… I see your point.” Drat. Then Alistair began to remove his mother’s amulet from around his neck.  
“Give him this. He’ll recognize it. He’s known me far longer than any of you. It should be enough.”  
“Far be it from me to point out the obvious here but, much of this plan is centered around Alistair’s memories from more than a decade ago, and the ability of two individuals, on horseback, to ride into town unnoticed, infiltrate a heavily guarded castle unnoticed, and catch this Teagan alone.” Morrigan posed.  
“You’re right. Let’s hear your plan.” I stared at her in anticipation.  
“I did not say I have a plan. I am saying this is a bad one.”  
“We need solutions, Morrigan. Not naysaying.” And then, lightning struck. Eureka! “Morrigan! You’re a shape-shifter!”  
“Your point?”  
“You could slip in unnoticed better than anyone!”  
“Oh no. No no no. Why not go with Sten’s plan? Kick down that woman’s door and take care of things once and for all. Simple. Efficient.”  
“Because those men’s lives matter, Morrigan. If we lose sight of that, we’re no better than her.” 

She let out a big sigh and crossed her arms, clearly not convinced. I drew closer and extended the amulet to her as I whispered so low only she could hear, “Please... sister.”  
Defeated, she snatched the amulet out of my hands. “Do not move from this spot, do you hear me?”  
“Loud and clear.” I smiled softly. And with that she transformed into some kind of black bird, amulet securely in her talons, and took off. 

“Welp, we might as well settle in and get cozy.” I suggested.  
“You did not tell me there was a bird traveling with us!” Shale exclaimed, clearly displeased with the revelation.  
“To be honest, I didn’t know until just now. But don’t worry. Morrigan is far different than your average pigeon.”  
“Bah! They’re all the same! Nasty little creatures, always molting and cawing and swooping and defecating and...” Shale kept muttering more unpleasant verbs to itself as it wandered off to stand away from the rest of us. I just chuckled and shook my head.

“Well, that’s a comforting thought—our fate in the hands… er… talons, of Morrigan. Should work out swell.” Alistair opined sarcastically as he began to set up his tent.  
“It’ll be fine. Say what you will about Morrigan; she knows how to get the job done.” 

I saw him roll his eyes but he let it drop.

“I suppose you’d like some help with your tent?” he asked once he was finished setting up his own.  
“Well,” I found his ear and whispered into it seductively. “I was actually thinking we could share… Unless of course you’d rather I didn’t join you.”  
“Nope. Let’s go with your plan. Your plan is definitely better.” He nodded vigorously as I moved to brush my lips against his. He met my kiss with a growing passion and held me close as I heard him begin to purr. I gently placed my hand on his chest to keep things from going too far. “Later.” I whispered with a smile before wandering off to find Leliana. 

She and Zevran already seemed to be engaged in conversation when I approached. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” I offered as I turned to walk away.  
“I could have done it, you know. Found him. Just as well as Morrigan. Likely better than Morrigan.” She pouted. Oh. Great. All I wanted to talk about was supper.  
“Of course you could have, my lithe little rogue. We would have made quick work of it.” Zevran said in his sweetest tone, laying on the charm as thick as he could to smooth things over.  
“Oh Leliana, please don’t take this as some sort of a slight. I know how skilled you are. But you can’t deny the fact that sending Morrigan does have its advantages.”  
“If you say so.” Was all she had to say.  
“Are you… jealous?” I asked.  
She let out a harsh laugh. “Of what? Morrigan?! Please. Although I do not understand your bond with her, it is certainly not something I am jealous of, Scarlett.”  
“We have a ‘bond,’ do we…”  
“Tis obvious, is it not? Despite her best efforts, she’s grown to care for you. And you for her. She would not have gone ahead to Redcliffe otherwise, I think.”  
“Alas, tis true. The ice woman’s rough edges somehow seem to melt when it comes to you. When it comes to the rest of us, however…” Zevran chimed in. 

I didn’t think I was playing favorites but apparently the rest of my companions thought otherwise. It just seemed like the best course of action—honest! Okay, Scarlett. Time to do some damage control. 

“Well, I care about you, too. Both of you. Leliana, I can’t tell you what it’s meant to me to have someone here I can talk to who doesn’t take all the joy out of everything. When Alistair and I realized we had feelings for each other, you were the only one genuinely happy for us. I’ll never forget that. Your undying support has meant the world to me. And Zev, although I could do without some of your antics…” I smirked, “You could have left a million times over by now. But you haven’t abandoned us. And you always manage to make me laugh, even when I’m a broken and bloody mess and have otherwise lost all hope. You guys are like family to me.”  
She and Zev both gave me a smile and Leliana placed her hand on my shoulder. “And you to me. With Marjolaine gone, I fear I have no one even close to family left but you.”  
“No parents? Siblings?” I asked. Strange how this never came up before. I guess I’d been steering clear of asking my companions about their families for fear they’d bring up mine… or the lack thereof. 

“My mother died when I was very young.” She explained, going into no further detail.  
“Mine, too! Yet another thing we have in common.” Zevran grinned.  
“What was she like?” I asked Leliana.  
“She was from here in Ferelden, actually. She served an Orlesian woman. Sadly, I don’t remember much about her. I remember her smell more than anything, funny as that sounds.”  
“No, I’m the same way. My mother always smelled of peppermint—an oil she used for her hands. Whenever I get the slightest whiff of it my thoughts immediately fall to her. Scent is very strongly linked to memory.” I explained.  
“Hmm… you may be right. My mother would keep dried flowers in her closet, amongst her clothes. Small, white, Ferelden wildflowers with a sweet fragrance. Mother called them Andraste’s Grace.” She smiled softly at the memory.  
“What about you, Zev? Do you know anything about your mother?” I asked.  
“She was Dalish, or so I’ve been told. She’d fallen in love with an Elven woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And then, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease and my mother was forced into prostitution to pay off his debts.”  
“Maker have mercy, that’s terrible!” I said it as sincerely as I could. Man oh man, he’d really been through some rough times. 

“It was a common tale. But I did not know her; she had died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were. But all throughout my Crow training, the one thing I possessed of my mother’s was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make and beautiful. They’re long gone now, but I remember everything from the feel of the leather to the intricate embroidery they were adorned with.”  
“It’s strange… the little things we remember. I sometimes worry that as time passes, my memories will fade and my family will become little more than shadows of a time long past.”  
“They are alive in you, Scarlett. Nothing, neither distance nor time, will change that.” Leliana reassured me.  
“The bardic beauty speaks truly. Not even death can truly part you, for you were a part of one another.” Zev offered gently.  
I nodded slowly as I felt a tear run down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly and changed the subject. “So, do you think we might put those unparalleled skills of yours to good use before night falls?”  
“What did you have in mind?” Leliana asked.  
“Supper.” I smiled as sweetly as I could.  
She sighed and grabbed her bow. “The things we do for family.”


	32. The Best-Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett is quite shaken after darkspawn invade the camp. With Teagan as a new ally, she devises a plan to end this farce once and for all and expose Isolde for what she really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos. Your feedback really makes my day and keeps me going! :D

Leliana managed to successfully shoot some pheasant for our supper—much to Shale’s delight. The golem didn’t even eat them; it was just happy there were now a few less birds in the world. When darkness was in full swing, I felt worry and doubt beginning to seep into my subconscious. I couldn’t help it. What if Morrigan didn’t make it? What if she was in trouble? What if she did actually make it to Teagan and he simply wouldn’t listen? So many questions and not a single answer in sight. Blast! 

I found myself pacing by the fire that Alistair was absent-mindedly stoking. Leliana was humming a sweet tune while Zevran whittled a rather thick stick into… let’s not go there. Wynne was mending Alistair’s socks—Oh yeah. Don’t let that adorably awkward, wise-cracking young man fool you; he can be quite the sweet talker when he wants to be. Sten was playing fetch with Meatball while guarding Jowan, who was no doubt trying to think of colorful ways to weasel his way out of his sealed fate. Shale was off… somewhere. The golem kind of reminded me of Morrigan in that way—another lone wolf. I did have a lot more questions for it, but I’d already asked roughly… oh… 3,000 or so today. I didn’t want to piss it off further. 

I searched the depths of my mind frantically for any sort of distraction from Morrigan’s lengthy absence. And boy oh boy did a distraction find me. It was subtle at first. Just a tickle in the back of my mind—that nagging you get when you feel like you’ve forgotten something when you’re headed out the door. Just a tiny gnawing in the pit of your stomach telling you that something isn’t quite right. But it soon grew into something else; something so frightening it made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I quickly looked around and everyone and everything seemed perfectly normal. No one was on the defensive—quite the contrary. Everyone seemed perfectly at ease. So why oh why did I feel like we were being watched? 

And then the vision came. Usually the nightmares had the courtesy to wait until I was fast asleep, but this one was so much more vivid and powerful than anything I’d encountered before. It settled into my mind’s eye while I was wide awake. The Archdemon—with its sulfur breath, its aubergine scales, its spindly claws, its jagged fangs, its deafening roar—its stare bore into my very soul. I felt as though it could actually see me right where I stood. As though it were stalking me, predator versus prey, ready to pounce at any moment. 

When the vision was gone, I found myself gasping for air and sweating profusely. I scanned the camp once more, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Alistair looked up at me, the growing concern painfully apparent in his eyes. 

“Scarlett? Are you—”  
“Wait! Do you hear that?!” I asked in a clear state of panic. 

Darkspawn. Darkspawn everywhere. We were surrounded in the blink of an eye. And I was terrified. Don’t even ask me why. We’d fought about a million of these things up to this point, but the image of that monstrous beast… it had me wracked with fear. I wasn’t thinking straight. Every time I tried to close my eyes and focus all I saw was that purple behemoth staring at me, baiting me, daring me to even attempt to challenge it. Not to mention, camp was the place that I was supposed to feel protected from all this. My haven. My sanctuary. But here they were, knocking on my door this time instead of the other way around. To have that illusion of safety ripped away from you so suddenly—I didn’t like it. Not one little bit. 

Sword, Scarlett. A sword would be good here. I blinked a few times and shook my head quickly to snap out of the hallucination-induced daze. I gripped my pommel tightly and began to unsheathe the blade but it wasn’t happening fast enough. I had two of those ugly fuckers headed straight for me and I was not reacting the way I should. Their shrieks, they pierced through me like rusty knives. I could focus on nothing else. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but, I’m big on thinking. It’s arguably my greatest weapon—that ole’ noggin of mine. And when I can’t figure out how to string anything together well enough to form a coherent thought, well, I’m all but useless. This was one such occasion. And those damn darkspawn could not have cared less. They just kept on coming. 

Wynne, apparently taking a cue from Morrigan, froze them where they stood. That helped. My clouded mind slowly started to clear up again now that I had a moment to regain composure. My first lucid thought: Kill. Kill them all. The first one I decapitated—a quick, clean swipe through the neck. The second one I punctured from the stomach all the way up through the rib cage. I sunk my sword in to the hilt. And twisted. Try shrieking now, you son of a bitch. 

And then another one came. Meatball ran up and bit its ankle so hard I could hear the wet sound of the bones snapping in his jaw. I ran my sword through the middle of its chest as it fell to the ground. 

Then another. Before I even had a chance to strike, Zevran got it with an arrow right between the eyes. 

Then more. Alistair ran to my side and pressed his back against mine.

“Double trouble?” He asked with a smirk.  
“You’re on.” I replied with a smile back. 

And with that, he bent over and I rolled over his back right after another damn darkspawn tried to grab me—a move we’d practiced in our downtime. I took Alistair’s sword from his hand and with all my strength I crossed his sword and mine before extending my arms outward to slice those ugly, laughing heads right off the Hurlocks that stood on either side of me. I had to admit, that one felt good. 

“Sword!” He cried. I threw it back to him just in time for him to drop to his knees and mow another Shriek down by striking at the shins first, then through the belly as it fell to the ground. 

As I looked around me, I saw Shale simply stomping any who dare come near it into the ground and Sten had apparently decided to do the same. It kind of looked like fun. 

Oh why not? One more for good measure. One of Leliana’s fire arrows got the last remaining Hurlock in the arse, but it was still headed right for me. Alright, this was getting old. Instead of fear, now I was filled with anger. How dare these ugly buggers come into my house and threaten my family? With a loud cry I ran and tackled the Hurlock to the ground. And I just started punching. Over. And over. And over again. I didn’t even have my armor on. I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel anything but the sheer hatred and vitriol coursing through my veins like acid. I balled up my fists and pounded and pounded until my knuckles were bruised and bloodied. And then I pounded some more. 

“Darling, I’m fairly sure it won’t be getting up. There’s nothing left of its face. You can stop anytime now.” Alistair teased. 

I sat up on my hind legs and took a deep breath in before looking down at the mess I’d made. He was right. There was nothing left but shards of bone and chunks of tissue and blood. Yum. 

Alistair offered me a hand up and I took it. Aaaaand that’s when I realized repeatedly punching darkspawn in the face with your bare hands is not the most brilliant idea in the world. Ouch. 

“You… you saw it, didn’t you?” Alistair asked in a shaky whisper. Apparently the vision had scared him, too.  
I nodded slowly. “The Archdemon. It came to me while I was awake. That’s… never happened to me before. It was as though it were looking right at me.”  
Alistair nodded. “I guess it’s true, what Duncan said. We can sense them, and they can sense us. We’d best be more careful from now on. This camp isn’t safe any longer.” 

Sten, as if he could hear us, suggested, “Fortification should be built around the camp. And you are going to help me do it.” He tugged at the rope tied around Jowan’s wrists and brought him to his feet. 

“How unnerving!” Leliana commented.  
“Yes. It will be more difficult to sleep here now.” Wynne agreed.  
“What, no trap? No ambush?” Zevran scoffed. “Some assassins.”  
“What will they send next? Darkspawn tax collectors?” Morrigan quipped. 

Wait a minute… MORRIGAN! 

“When did you get back?!” I asked, my voice almost shrill with excitement and relief.  
“Somewhere between you stealing Alistair’s sword and bashing that one’s face to a bloody pulp.” She answered coolly.  
“My, it seems you’ve changed somewhat since I last had the pleasure of your company, Lady Cousland.” Teagan observed, clearly stunned. I must have been a sight. My clothes were torn and stained with blood and rot, my hair was all disheveled and unkempt, my skin was covered in bruises and sweat—a far cry from the painted, well-dressed lady who sat down to dinner with him.  
“A lot has changed, Bann Teagan.” I explained. “More than you know or may want to accept.” 

He gave me a nod before digging the amulet out from his shirt pocket. 

“I believe this belongs to you, young man.” He smiled softly as he extended the necklace to Alistair. “I came as soon as I saw it. I am relieved to see you are not in peril.”  
“Thanks.” Alistair offered as he slipped the necklace back around his neck. “It’s actually interesting that you should bring that up… me being in peril, I mean…”  
“Oh? What’s happened? Your mage friend here, she isn’t much for talking.” Teagan explained. 

Alistair gave me a look that basically said, ‘Do you want to explain or should I?’ I took that as my cue to step in. I figured I knew more details than he did since he was, you know, on the brink of death when most of this went down. 

“First, I want to assure you that I have made good on my promise. The ashes have been retrieved and we intend to heal Eamon as soon as possible.”  
“You have! Wonderful!” He was so excited at the prospect of seeing his brother awake again his entire face lit up.  
“There’s more, I’m afraid.”  
“Tell me.”  
“Alright, well, there’s no easy way to say this.”  
“Do not mince words, Lady Cousland. I can take whatever news you bring.” Teagan insisted.  
“Isolde tried to have Alistair killed.” I said plainly. 

I saw his eyes grow wide as saucers as soon as the words escaped my lips. 

“K-killed? But… but why?” He asked, bewildered. “You saved her life. You saved Connor. You’re going to save Eamon.”  
“She wants the throne, Teagan. And Alistair’s claim puts a wrench in her plans.”  
“I don’t understand. Without you, Eamon doesn’t recover. Without Eamon, she has no claim.”  
“She was going to attempt to seduce Loghain, should Eamon not recover.”  
Teagan let out a hearty laugh. “You are joking, yes? Isolde is Orlesian! Loghain would never—”  
“A valid point but, in case you haven’t noticed, Isolde is a rather shoddy judge of character.” I rolled my eyes as I gestured toward Jowan.  
“…The maleficar? What role does he have in all this?”  
“At the risk of sounding dramatic, he is Isolde’s instrument of death, as it were. He poisoned Alistair, just as he poisoned your brother. The ashes were the only way we managed to save Alistair’s life.”  
“Yet he still draws breath?” Teagan asked derisively.  
“For now. We have no proof. It will be Isolde’s word against ours. Jowan is the only other witness we have.”  
“Well, for whatever it’s worth, Warden, I am with you. Eamon is truly in for a rude awakening, I’m afraid.”  
“You believe us? Just like that?” I asked. You know me, incredulous as ever.  
“Well, to be perfectly blunt, I’ve never liked Isolde. This news does not exactly come as a shock, her eyeing up the throne like a greedy vulture. I do admit I did not think she would ever stoop so low as murder, but you have given me no reason to doubt you. I suppose one question remains, however: Can we trust the blood mage to retell the true version of events?” 

Hmm... I had no answer for that one. Then I heard Jowan begin whining. With a gag in your mouth you only speak in vowels. I gave Sten a slight nod and he removed it. 

“I have done you wrong, I know this. And I know I must die. I have made peace with that. But I was a good man once. A man who loved and was loved in return. And I would rather meet the Maker knowing that with my last breath, I brought an evil woman to justice—that I righted at least one of my wrongs. Bring me to Eamon and I will tell the truth. You have my word.” The mage vowed. 

“Obviously we can’t trust him as far as we can throw him…” Alistair asserted as he looked over at Shale. “Well, at least as far as I can throw him. I’d imagine the golem could throw him pretty damn far.”  
“Oh please. Let’s do test the theory.” Shale offered with glee.  
“Not yet. We need him.” I stopped the golem as it began to approach Jowan. And for some reason, it listened to me, although, Maker knows, it so didn’t have to. “But Alistair speaks truly. He’s given us this sob story before. I fell for it once and lived to regret it. But what choice do we really have here?” I asked.  
“I’m afraid there is no other choice, my lady.” Teagan replied.  
I nodded. “Alright. We make for Redcliffe at first light. I know it won’t be easy, but try and get some rest everyone.” 

With that the party splintered off to their respective tents. Well, everyone except Teagan and Alistair. 

“Er… Teagan… where were you intending to sleep?” Alistair asked.  
“Well, I don’t mean to impose but, I know you better than anyone. Would you mind terribly if I bunked with you?” He asked.  
“Well, actually—”  
“Of course, Teagan. Alistair would be happy to share after you’ve traveled all this way just to check on him.” I interrupted.  
“But—”  
“Wouldn’t you, Alistair?” I interrupted again forcefully.  
He let out a heavy sigh. “Of course.”  
“Wonderful. Thank you, Alistair. If you could point me to which one is yours, I’ll get settled in.” 

Alistair begrudgingly lifted his arm and pointed his finger at his tent. Teagan nodded and walked toward it. 

“Was there talk of you and I sharing a tent this evening, or am I going crazy?” He asked as soon as Teagan was out of earshot, clearly disappointed as I handed him my tent for assembly.  
I let out a slight chuckle. “No, you’re not going crazy. I just… he’s come all this way and you’re the only one he really feels comfortable around. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to sleep with Zevran or Sten either. Would you?”  
“Why don’t we just let him sleep in this one?” He asked as he knelt to the ground and began to set everything up.  
“I… I don’t know.” I blushed.  
“Scarlett Cousland, are you… You are! You’re feeling shy!”

I just remained silent and looked at the ground. 

“You who make bandits flee with their tails between their legs and darkspawn quiver with fear and slay Maker-forsaken high dragons are deterred by one little sort-of family visit?!”  
“Great. Now you’re making fun of me.” I complained.  
“Make fun of you, dear lady, perish the thought! I am just… shocked, is all.”  
“It’s different with him here, okay?!” I insisted as I crossed my arms. “I can’t make love to you with reckless abandon knowing your sort-of uncle is sleeping only a few feet away with no blasted walls between us! It’s weird.”  
Alistair let out a slight chuckle. “You’re adorable, you know that?”  
“Don’t patronize me.” I scowled.  
He smiled and shook his head as he finished putting my tent together. “What, no thank you for sparing you from this… what do you call it? A ‘canvas conundrum,’ I believe is your choice phrase.”  
“Thank you.” I mumbled.  
He placed two fingers beneath my chin and made my eyes meet his as he leaned in for a kiss. “I think you can do better than that.” 

I leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Oh come on, he’s not even looking!” Alistair whined.  
“Goodnight, Alistair.” I gave him a soft smile.  
He let out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, my lady.” 

…

Dawn arrived all too soon. I had barely slept a wink. All I kept seeing was that dragon’s grotesque face, its demonic eyes watching every move I made. I thought about waking Alistair but I didn’t want to inadvertently wake Teagan as well, so I just opted to deal with it as best I could. And, as it turns out, my best was pretty damn terrible. Any howl or hoot or rustle of leaves and I sat up immediately and grabbed my sword, ready for action. We weren’t in any real danger, of course, but try telling that to my overactive imagination. 

I crawled out of my tent, determined to carry on despite my sleep deprivation. And Alistair was already burning breakfast. Awesome. This day was off to an exceptional start. 

“I can see your cooking has not improved.” Teagan teased.  
“Old habits die hard.” Alistair grinned before spotting me. “Good morning, sunshine.”  
I just lifted my heavy head and groaned. I felt like death. I even had some of the darkspawn guts still stuck in my hair and the blood still staining my clothes. Blech.  
“I made some coffee, Lady Cousland. Would you care for some?” Teagan offered me a mug with inviting steam rising off the top.

I didn’t even drink coffee, but on this of all mornings, it seemed like a good idea. I really, REALLY needed something to wake me up. If I had to resort to a cup of piping hot brown sludge, so be it. I grabbed it from him and gave him a nod of thanks. 

“Not much of a morning person, eh?” Teagan inquired with a smile. I just glared at him.  
“Grey Wardens often have trouble sleeping. Scarlett is no exception, I’m afraid.” Alistair defended.  
“Ah, of course. I am sorry to hear you did not sleep well. As for me, I could grow to like this great outdoors business. I haven’t slept outside since I was a boy. It’s so… refreshing.” Teagan puffed up his chest as he breathed in the fresh air.  
“Trust me, the novelty wears off quickly.” I asserted sourly as I took another sip of coffee. Ick. I don’t know how anyone can drink this stuff. I was just hoping this affront to my taste buds would be worth it. Teagan just let out a slight chuckle. 

“There is a question I’ve been tossing around since last night, if you’ll indulge me.” I posed.  
“Of course.” Teagan replied.  
“How did you avoid being followed? Jowan said Isolde has spies everywhere.” Yeah, last night’s little run-in with the darkspawn still had me on edge. Paranoid? Who? Me? 

Teagan just looked over at Morrigan. 

“I took care of it.” was all she offered.  
“Meaning you killed them.” I clarified.  
“Only the ones who were unlucky enough to cross our path.” Morrigan smirked as she sipped her coffee. “You should really thank me. The journey to Redcliffe should now, without a doubt, be unencumbered. No one lurking in the shadows or sneaking off to warn the bitch we are coming.” 

I shook my head in disapproval. “They were just doing as they were told. They likely had homes, families—”  
“Oh Scarlett, really. I do not understand where this sudden attack of conscience is stemming from. Spies have families. Assassins have families. Cultists have families. Thieves have families. They chose their paths, as we have chosen ours. In times of war, it is survival of the fittest. Do not waste your time regretting the loss of those inferior to yourself. I certainly will not.”  
“I’m sorry I still have a lingering regard for human life.” I retorted bitterly.  
“This is not about me disposing of a few spies. This is about your own regret in letting that woman live. And you know it.” 

The rest of the party was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. I bit my tongue so hard I could taste the metallic flavor of my own blood. And Maker help me, she was right. That was the worst part. 

“If I had killed her those men would still be alive. They would have—”  
“But you did not kill her, Scarlett. There is no changing that fact. So you made a mistake. Accept it. Move on.” 

And somehow, hearing Morrigan actually say it was a mistake… it made me feel better than when Alistair had insisted I’d done the right thing. I don’t even know why, really. Her calling me out was like a slap in the face, but it brought me back to reality. You can’t change the past, no matter how much you might want to. And hearing someone else acknowledge the fact that I’d messed up rather than sweeping it under the rug or insisting no mistake was made to begin with… I don’t know. Somehow it made my burden of guilt feel just a little bit lighter. To err is human and, as it turns out, I’m human after all. 

I knocked back the remainder of my coffee and stood up. 

“Gather your things. We need to get going.” I ordered. 

Everyone began to pack up. Except Alistair. He came over to check on me, sweetheart that he is. 

“Are you alright?” He asked barely above a whisper—he didn’t want to embarrass me further, bless his heart.  
“Never better.” I didn’t even say it sarcastically. I actually did feel a bit better.  
“What Morrigan said—it wasn’t true, you know. Don’t let her—”  
“Actually, it was true. I messed up. It’s not the first time and it likely won’t be the last. And that’s okay. Time to move on, like she said.” I admitted plainly before I paused for a beat. “I’m going to find somewhere to get cleaned up a bit before we head out. I won’t be long.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek and went on my way. 

There was a small pond a few paces from where we’d initially set up camp. And it was freezing. Oh, sod it. I didn’t care. I just wanted all this darkspawn gook and rot off of me as soon as possible. After testing the temperature with my toe, I opted to take a few steps back, get a running start, and dive into the frigid water, clothes and all. 

As soon as I came back up to the surface I heard myself let out a loud… let’s call it a string of obscenities and leave it at that. WOW! I sure as shit was awake now! I took my cherry-almond-scented soap and ran it all over my body as quickly as I could. We still had a ways to go and would need all the daylight we could get. 

As I made my way out of the water, it occurred to me that I forgot to bring a dry set of clothes along. Brilliant. 

“Forget something?” Alistair greeted with a smile and laid my clothes out on a nearby boulder as I wrung my hair out.  
“My hero!” I started to run up to him as he slowly began backing away.  
“Nooooo no no no! Scarlett, I mean it! Do not—”

I caught up to him, still soaking wet, and gave him a big ole hug. Muahahahaha! 

“AHHH! Maker’s breath, you’re freezing! You’re going to catch your death out here!” he squealed.  
“Nonsense. After all the shit we’ve been through I kind of doubt some cold water is going to do me in.” I argued as I loosened my grip and walked over to where my clothes were sitting. “Besides, at least I’m awake now.” I smirked as I quickly made sure the coast was clear and lifted my dripping wet shirt off to change into the dry one. And then I heard his footsteps drawing closer. 

“I happen to know a surefire way of getting you warm.” He purred into my ear as his hands gripped the sides of my stomach, pulling me back against his warm body. Uh oh. 

Be strong, Scarlett. I quickly turned around to face him so I’d stop feeling his hot breath against my ear. That helped but only for the split-second before I saw his face. Seeing that handsome visage adorned with hungry eyes and a seductive smile—how in the Maker’s name was I supposed to resist that?! 

“Your pants are still wet. I should probably help you out of them, hmm?” He offered in a soft, gravelly tone. I could do nothing but nod. Fuck. 

I felt his fingers begin to untie the drawstring as he brought his warm lips to meet my frosty ones—the contrast was so sharp I was surprised we didn’t create steam when we touched. He began pushing the pants down over my hips, then bent his knees and dropped lower to the ground to pull them down all the way. He looked up at me with those ravenous eyes as I stepped out of them and I was helpless to do anything to stop him. He started running his hands all the way up my legs, from my ankles to my shins, to the inside of my knees, to the inside of my thighs, to—

“Alistair?! Lady Cousland?! Are you alright? Why do you take so long?” We heard Teagan call. 

My eyes grew wide as I frantically moved to hide behind the nearest shrubbery and hop into my pants. Leather pants do not like to cooperate with damp skin—just a heads up. 

“We’re fine! Be right there!” I shouted back. 

Alistair hung his head in defeat. 

“Twice. That’s twice now Teagan has robbed me of the chance to be with you.” He groaned in frustration.  
“It’s for the best. We really shouldn’t delay any longer. We’ve had too many distractions already.” I reasoned as I continued to struggle with my blasted trousers.  
“Then why didn’t you stop me?” He smirked. 

I just gave him a knowing glance and a sly smile. He knew how hard it was for me to turn him down. I didn’t even have to say the words anymore. 

Aha! Finally got the fuckers on! Scarlett - 1. Pants - 0. 

…

It turns out that Morrigan spoke truly—we didn’t run into a single obstacle or adversary during the remainder of our journey to Redcliffe. When the city gates were finally in view, the gravity of the situation began to set in. How in the Maker’s name were we going to pull this off? 

“Lady Cousland, if I may offer a bit of advice.” Teagan began.  
“Oh, please do.” I answered.  
“Eamon loves Isolde. And love is blind.”  
“So, you’re saying that despite Alistair, Jowan, yourself, and me swearing that she’s done this terrible, inexcusable thing, he still may not believe us?”  
“I’m afraid so. For years I have tried to expose that devious little pretender for what she is to no avail. I love my brother and I know he cares for Alistair, but… I do worry it may not be enough to overpower his affection for her.”  
“Then we need to make Isolde confess.” I explained plainly. 

Alistair and Teagan both let out exaggerated, bitter laughs. 

“You have met Isolde, right? You know, short, thin, shrill voice, annoying accent, will step on anyone to get ahead and then shift the blame when things don’t go her way…” Alistair asked.  
“I’m not saying it will be easy, but there’s got to be a way. We need to trick her.” I reasoned as I began pacing back and forth, deep in contemplation. Come on, Scarlett. You can figure this out. Isolde is just one more puzzle to be solved; one more enigma to unravel. Besides, she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. You can outwit her any day of the week. 

“Alistair, Teagan, Wynne, Morrigan.” I removed the small pouch from my bag and handed it to Wynne. “Take the ashes and sneak into the castle. Wynne, explain to the mages you find with Eamon how you used the ashes to heal Alistair. When Eamon wakes, Morrigan, come find me.”

“I am not your personal carrier pigeon, you know.” Morrigan griped.  
“If you were, you’d be nothing more than a stain beneath my foot.” Shale declared. Well then.  
“I’m not sure I follow…” Alistair asserted. 

“I don’t want Isolde to know Jowan didn’t succeed. I want her to think you’re dead. I am going to make a big show of entering the castle. I’ll loudly announce my arrival so you’ll know when to get Eamon within earshot of my conversation with Isolde. And that’s when I spring the trap.” 

“Ooh I so love a good intrigue.” Zevran confessed. “Tell me of the trap you have in mind. Poison? Trip wires?”  
“Words.” I corrected him.  
“Oh. How perfectly dull.” Zevran sighed. 

“I will bait Isolde into admitting what she’s done, and Eamon will hear the confession coming straight from her mouth. He’ll have no choice but to believe she’s guilty. Simple.”  
“And what are we to do with him?” Sten asked as he shook Jowan. “If the woman sees the mage with us, she will know we discovered him.”  
“Shale can watch Jowan outside the castle until the time is right.” I asserted.  
“Oh, lovely. First a lawn ornament, now a babysitter. So thrilling to see my full potential realized.” The golem groaned. “And how, pray tell, will we know when to join you?”  
“I’ll send for you. Easy peasy.” 

“Well then. It seems you’ve inherited your mother’s beauty and your father’s wits. I believe this just might work.” Teagan smiled. Alistair shot him the nastiest, deadliest glare I have ever seen. Aww. He’s so cute when he’s jealous. 

“Why thank you, kind sir.” I gave him a smile and a slight bow. “Alright, guys, we only have one shot at this. Questions?” 

Zevran raised his hand first. “Zev?”  
“Can I loot the castle when all of this is over?”  
“No. Anyone else?”  
“Can I keep Isolde’s shoes when we’re finally free of her?” Leliana entreated with a wry smile. Interesting. That comment hardly seemed like her. Maybe Zevran had begun rubbing off on her. Or perhaps all this talk of murder and deception had caused her to return to her old self—cold, calculating, materialistic.  
“Possibly.” I smirked as Alistair raised his hand. “Yes?”  
“Can I just take a seat in the tavern until all of this blows over?” It was so strange. The woman who plotted to end his life was finally within our grasp, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. He didn’t show the slightest bit of anger or resentment. No outrage. No desire for revenge. It made zero sense to me. Then again, I suppose I’d been mad enough for the both of us. 

“And miss the look on Isolde’s face when she realizes you’re alive? Not in a million years. Now, if there’s nothing else…”

No one else raised their hands. 

“Right then. Let’s get going. We have an Arl to wake and a would-be murderer to catch.”


	33. A Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to put Scarlett's plan into action, wake Eamon, and finally see Isolde get her comeuppance. But love is a powerful force, and sometimes things don't always go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, and thanks for reading! Comments are kudos are appreciated, as always.

Are you familiar with the phrase “A watched pot never boils?” That’s pretty much what I’m reduced to at the moment—watching a stagnant pot that simply refuses to start bubbling. I’m currently playing the waiting game, you see. It’s super fun. The rules? Oh, you know, pacing, nail-biting, pulling your hair out, worrying yourself sick, that sort of thing. Wynne, Morrigan, Teagan, and Alistair disappeared with those ashes hours ago and I’m a nervous wreck. Ugh. Maybe this wasn’t the most well-thought-out plan after all.

I opted to bother the golem. I felt like that would somehow make me feel better.

“You’re still with me, I see.” I observed as I strode over to Shale. It let out an audible groan.  
“Yes. Its adventures are interesting, even if the chances of success are remarkably slim. It would be better to throw one’s self off a cliff, I suspect.”  
“Has anyone ever told you you’re terrible at reassurance?” I asked.  
“Hmm… I couldn’t say. No one has ever asked me for that before.” Shale paused for a bit. “Does it wish me to leave? I can, though I see no reason to go.”  
“No, please stay. I need all the help I can get.” I pleaded.  
“No doubt. Without me it would have to do its own babysitting and carry its inventory on its own.” Shale let out a slight giggle. I cracked a smile despite my anxiety—something about a giggling stone golem just downright tickled my funny bone. The reprieve didn’t last long, though. I went back to pacing almost immediately.

“Do you wish to go through it again?” Leliana offered.  
“Ugh. If we rehearse this conversation one more time I feel like I might lose it. I already want to punch Isolde in her mousey, scrunched up little face so badly I can taste it. If you keep pretending to be her I might give in to the urge.” I warned.  
Leliana just shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Oh look, I’m back to pacing! Aaaaand now wringing and fidgeting with my hands was in the mix. What in the Maker’s name was taking so long?!

“You seem tense, my Ferelden rose.” Zevran observed.  
“Gee, ya think?!” I snapped back.  
“I am well trained in the art of massage. Might I—”  
“You do realize Alistair would likely beat you within an inch of your life if he heard you even asking, right?” I posed.  
“What can I say? When the cat’s away, the mice will play.” He gave me a wicked grin. “But I did not hear a ‘no’.”  
“No, thank you.”  
“As you wish.” Zevran took a seat on a nearby boulder, slightly dejected. Then he remembered I wasn’t the only female nearby. “And what of you, red? Care to experience the pleasure of these magic hands?” the elf asked Leliana.  
“Well, I have had a kink in my neck for the past several days…” she responded. Hmm… very interesting. They had been flirting a little back and forth for some time now, but I figured it was just a way to pass the time—to kill their boredom. But now that Leliana was taking Zevran up on a massage… perhaps there was more to it than that. Leliana sat down on the ground in front of him and he slowly brushed her hair aside and began his work. A look of ecstasy almost immediately befell Leliana’s face. Great. At least one of us would be relaxed going into this mess.

Let the pacing recommence. Sten was watching me as I moved back and forth. His incessant stare was so irritating it almost made me itch.

“Oh what are you looking at?” I spat the question at the Qunari.  
“A true master in the art of wasting time. That woman would have been dead hours ago if we had done things my way.”  
“I kicked your ass once, Sten. I could do it again.” I threatened.  
“You asked for my input. I have given it.” He replied calmly.  
“Well, you can take your input and shove it up your—”

And then, just when I was pretty much at the end of my rope and about to give that Qunari yet another piece of my mind, Morrigan returned.

“He is awake. The time to strike is now.” She informed us.

“Okay guys, just like we talked about. Shale, we’ll send for you and Jowan when the time is right. Try to find somewhere inconspicuous to stay for the time being. Everyone else, follow me.” I ordered.

“Inconspicuous?! Have you seen the size of that thing?” Leliana asked as she got up off the ground.  
“Is it calling me fat?” The golem inquired. “If so, I will strike it down where it stands!” The golem paused before softening its tone. “…Is it the crystals? It’s the crystals, isn’t it? They add additional girth.”

Oof. Someone struck a nerve. Leliana just slowly slinked away. Insulting a golem is never a wise choice.

“Shale, you look great, I promise. Just try not to get noticed, okay?” I reassured it.

The golem gave me a nod and we began the short walk to the castle gates.

…

Only two guards were attending the castle entrance. Sten may have been right about Redcliffe’s forces—it seemed they were still rather paltry.

“State your business.” The taller guard demanded.  
“Scarlett Cousland to see Lady Isolde. I bring news of the Urn of Sacred Ashes.” I declared in as loud, as showy a manner as I could muster.

The guard looked at the other guard who gave him a nod and they opened the gates. We walked through and climbed those familiar, dreadful steps and I stopped once again in front of those intimidating double doors. For so long I’d wanted to make this bitch pay, and now that the moment was finally here, I found myself dreading it. I took a deep breath in… and then let it out slowly. I rolled my neck around and rotated my shoulders to try and let go of some of my pent up tension. We had a lot riding on my ability to deceive and manipulate someone who already had years of practice doing both. Please. Please don’t let me fuck it up.

“Well, it’s now or never, I guess.” I sighed. Maker, I sounded so shaky, so unsure of myself. I wasn’t going to convince anyone of anything at this rate.

“Scarlett.” Morrigan called to me from behind.  
“Yeah?” I answered back without looking at her.  
“This woman has been the fly in our ointment for far too long. Her crimes are without number. Her remorse is nonexistent. Crush her like the insect she is.” She demanded.

Ya know, I never would have pegged Morrigan as much of a motivational speaker, but I had to admit, her words made me feel a bit stronger. A bit steadier. I gave her a nod and pushed those imposing double doors open with both hands as loudly and forcefully as I possibly could.

The place hadn’t changed much. Still dim, still drafty, still lavish with its wall hangings and sprawling crimson carpets. A fire was still blazing along the back wall. I did notice one change, however—Isolde had brought a chair that looked suspiciously like a throne into the middle of the room. Seems she was enjoying her increased power while Eamon was out of commission. Or perhaps she was just using the chair to practice her role as queen—to rehearse the way she should sit, the way she should stand, the way to turn her nose up in the air and scoff. Image was everything to someone like Isolde.

Before long she walked into the room to greet us. She approached me first and pulled me in for a fake hug—you know, hardly touching, a few barely-there taps on the shoulder and air kisses on either cheek. Apparently we’d become best friends during my lengthy absence. Who knew?

“Ah, Lady Cousland. I have been worried sick about you and your… friends. It warms my heart to see you standing here before me, no worse for wear.”

I smiled through gritted teeth. Keep it together, Scarlett. Bide your time. Her true colors will be revealed soon enough.

“Thank you, my lady. I am pleased to be here.”

She completely ignored the rest of my companions—apparently they weren’t worthy of her acknowledgment—and sauntered over to the pseudo-throne. She sat down with elegance and poise, taking her sweet time as though no one in the world mattered but her. Typical.

“So, they tell me you bring news of the ashes.” She posed as she crossed her legs.  
“I do indeed. I… well, I don’t quite know where to begin.”  
“I often find the beginning is best. Did you find Genitivi?” she asked.  
“Genitivi was not in Denerim, but we did manage to track him down. He… he was being held captive.”

Her eyes grew wide with feigned concern. I could see through the charade immediately. Maker’s breath do I hate this woman.

“Held captive? Where? Who would do such a thing?”  
“There is a small village called Haven in the Frostback Mountains. So small, in fact, it cannot be found on any map. Still, we managed to locate it. But we found more than we bargained for, I’m afraid.”

That’s it, Scarlett. Start building the suspense. Get her wrapped up in your tale, then go in for the kill.

“Do go on.” She entreated as she adjusted herself in the seat.  
“The town, it… something about it wasn’t right. The first person we saw bade us to turn back, but I would not be deterred. When I make a promise I intend to see it through to the end. But then we found the blood...”  
“Blood?”  
“Human blood. On an altar. It was… disturbing, to put it mildly. And that’s when I noticed Alistair beginning to show… symptoms.”  
“Hmm… yes, I did find it curious that he is not with you. What sort of symptoms?”  
“Fever. Nausea. Nothing to be truly worried about, or so we thought. Then the entire village—every single inhabitant—tried to kill us.”

Isolde’s eyes grew wider still as she moved to sit on the edge of her seat. “Why would they do that?”  
“I couldn’t figure it out myself at first. Then, when we found Genitivi, he shed some light on a few things.”  
“Such as…”  
“The ashes are real. They do indeed exist. But the inhabitants of that village, those charged with protecting them—they were suffering from something. Something sinister. And then, as I saw Alistair’s condition worsen, it dawned on me.”  
“…What?” she asked with an arched brow.  
“Plague. They were suffering from some kind of plague, they had to be. It was the only possible explanation. It had tainted their minds. It made them do things, so many terrible, unspeakable things.” I gasped and broke her gaze, bringing my hand to my mouth as though the memories were too terrible to relive. I didn’t even have to do that much pretending. All I had to do was think of the things we’d faced in that chantry, the thought of almost losing Alistair, and the tears just fell naturally. If this Grey Warden thing doesn’t pan out, perhaps I should pursue the theatre.

“We… we lost Alistair, Isolde. He…” and I just started sobbing. Zevran, ever the showman and opportunist, brought me in for a tight hug to console me. As luck—or perhaps the lack thereof—would have it, he was so much shorter than me that his face landed right between my breasts. Zevran, being Zevran, seized the chance to nuzzle right into them. Remind me to kill that elf when this is all over, k? I sniffled and broke away from his embrace to face her again.

“That is a true shame.” She offered dispassionately. “But the ashes… you did get the ashes!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with unbridled anticipation.

I just shook my head.

“I wanted to, believe me I did. I just couldn’t risk the lives of the rest of my people by lingering in that Maker-forsaken village a minute longer. I could not lose one more of them to that plague. Besides, I was now the last remaining Grey Warden. The burden of ending the Blight now rests solely on my shoulders. There was no more room for distractions, for tempting fate. I had to get out of there. I had to leave the ashes behind for all our sakes. I’m so sorry.”

My words were filled with sorrow and regret, but all she heard was that I failed to get the ashes and that was enough to change her disposition from caring and concerned to royally pissed off.

“So, you’re telling me Alistair came down with some trivial illness and that was enough for you to retreat and leave my husband to die?”  
“Not trivial, Isolde. It wasn’t like he had a case of the sniffles. He died! That plague claimed his life! Can you not see why I had to leave? For the greater good?”  
“Sounds to me like you were just looking for an excuse to turn tail and run. And to think of all I’ve done for you…” I could see her anger slowly building with each breath she took, like a pot that was about to boil over any second. Time to turn up the heat.

“…All you’ve done for me? You’re joking, right? Did you save _my_ village from the undead? Did you destroy the demon dwelling within _my_ son?” I asked dryly.  
“Puh. I fed you. I clothed you. I put a roof over your head. And this is the thanks I get?”  
“For one night!” I shouted. “Tell you what. I can draw you a map that will get you to Haven. If you want the ashes so badly, go after them yourself. I am done doing your dirty work.” I declared sternly as I turned around to leave. And that’s when I heard her get up from her chair.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me! There was no plague, you stupid cow. I had Alistair killed, and I will do the same to anyone else who stands in my way! A day of reckoning is coming! I am finally going to take my rightful place on the throne, and unless you want to end up like your beloved Alistair, I strongly suggest you bring me what I seek, Warden.” She spat out my title as though it were the most vile thing on the planet. No matter. Now we had her right where we wanted her. I gave Zevran the slightest of nods and he disappeared to fetch Jowan. Then we heard the slow creaking of Eamon’s bedroom door as it opened.

“It’s… it’s not true. Tell me it’s not true!” Eamon pleaded as he emerged from his room, his eyes shiny with unshed tears and his voice heavy with heartbreak.

“E-Eamon! But… but how?!” Isolde gasped.

Then Alistair followed him out the door, the slightest of smiles playing across his lips.

“Alistair?! But… I… You! You lied to me!” Isolde shrieked as she stared daggers at me.  
“Yes, I did. Tell me, how does it feel to be on the receiving end of the lies for once?”  
“You will pay for this, you Cousland brat! I swear to the Maker, you will—”  
“Enough, Isolde!” Alistair interrupted firmly. “Hurl one more insult at her and so help me…” Alistair vowed. And for the first time since this whole ordeal began, I could tell he was legitimately angry.

“Oh, I’m so sorry if I somehow offended your whore.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Ah, the bastard and the tramp. A match made in paradise. You know, Scarlett, I hear Howe ravaged your mother before she died. Now that I see your slatternly ways, I can’t help but wonder if she enjoyed it.”

Alistair balled up his fist and looked as though he was legitimately about to slug her. As it turned out, I beat him to the punch—literally. I punched her so hard in the face I could have sworn I felt her skull crack beneath the weight of my fist. All it took was one blow and she was on the floor. I wanted to keep swinging but Alistair grabbed my hand in his and held me back with all his strength. I don’t know where that boy’s restraint comes from, but thank the Maker one of us has some.

“Such cruelty. Such avarice. How could you do this, Isolde? The woman I loved would never—”  
“I can tell you how she did it in great detail.” Jowan offered as he strolled into the room with Zevran, Meatball, and Shale in tow.  
“And who in the Maker’s name are you?” Eamon asked. He sounded tired, so very tired.  
“I am the man who poisoned you at the request of Teyrn Loghain. And I am the man who poisoned Alistair at the request of your wife.”

Wow, he actually decided to tell the truth this time. Bully for him.

“Loghain? But…”  
“Much has happened since you fell ill, brother. Some of it will not be… easy for you to hear.”  
“Then tell me. I wish to hear all of it.” Eamon entreated.  
“And so you shall. But let us first deal with the task at hand. Isolde must be punished for what she has done.” Teagan insisted.

Isolde raised herself up slowly and spat out a tooth before she began to laugh.

“Eamon would never harm me. Oh, my darling husband. Surely you must know that all I have done, I have done for us. You and I can finally rule together, as it has always meant to be. How could you punish me when I had nothing but building a better future for us, for Connor, at heart?”  
“Mmm yes, very moving.” I commented before letting out an exaggerated yawn. “Why don’t you tell him what you planned to do if he didn’t wake, Isolde? Or perhaps I should. What do you prefer?”

She just gave me the nastiest glare she could muster and opted to remain silent.

“She was intending to marry Loghain, should you have not recovered.” I explained to Eamon.  
“Isolde? What is the meaning of this?” Eamon asked, his anger beginning to flare up now as well.  
“She lies! She’ll say anything to incriminate me!” Isolde hissed.  
“It’s true.” Jowan affirmed. “She told me herself. She is not the selfless, loving wife and mother she claims to be. All she cares about is that crown.”  
“No, no! Eamon you must understand. You were gone for so long… It meant nothing. I—”

“F-father? What’s going on? When did you wake? What are you doing to mother?!” Connor wailed as he entered the room. Perfect. This was exactly what we needed. ...NOT. 

“Connor!” Eamon cried as he moved to wrap his arms tightly around his son. “Maker’s breath I missed you so!”  
“I missed you too, papa.” Connor admitted as he held his father close. “Please tell me why mother is on the floor. What has happened?”

Eamon hung his head in defeat as he whispered. “I… I am sorry, Alistair. I recognize the severity of her crimes and I understand why you seek revenge but… I cannot do it. I cannot kill her.”  
“And in so doing, you let my murderer roam free.” Alistair didn’t yell, but his voice was somehow scarier than if he had. His words were distant. Cold. But there was something beneath that layer. It was as though every single emotion he felt about this whole thing was slowly, steadily, coming back to the surface. “This is not about revenge; this is about justice. I died, Eamon! The ashes brought me back, but I was gone.” He paused before lifting a strong finger to point at Isolde and yelling, “All because of that monster’s bloody ambition! Her deception! Her greed! It was her damn foolishness that almost cost your son his life. Did you know that? Not only your son, but every single person who resides in Redcliffe. All would have perished at her hand if not for us. Please, if there was ever a moment, even in its smallest measurement, that you loved me at all like a son, give me justice! Give justice to all who lost their lives because of that covetous wretch. Make her pay for what she’s done!” He begged as his voice became hoarse, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. Sweet Andraste, had he been holding that in all this time?!

“Mother? What is he talking about?” Connor asked, clearly puzzled. Apparently he remembered nothing of what happened before. If I had my druthers, I would have kept it that way. No child should have to live with the guilt of knowing he killed so many of his own people. It wasn’t even his fault. But you know what they say, “The truth shall set you free.” And Jowan was thoroughly enjoying his newfound freedom.

“You remember me, don’t you, Connor? Those lessons I gave you?” Jowan asked.  
Connor nodded slowly.  
“Jowan, don’t.” I whispered.  
“He needs to hear this!” The mage insisted. “Your rightful place was at the Circle, Connor. But by keeping you here with me, your mother left you weak… exposed to possession.”  
“…Possession? Like… with demons?” Connor asked.  
“Yes. A desire demon possessed your body and sent the undead to attack the village. Hundreds died. And it’s all your mother’s fault.”

Connor’s eyes grew wide with fear and shock as the reality of Jowan’s words began to set in.

“M-Mother? Did you do this? Maker, did I do this?! Did I kill people?!”  
“I… I only did it to keep you with me, my son. The thought of losing you…”  
“Will the lies never cease?” Morrigan posed. “You did not send the boy to the Circle because you knew he would no longer be a suitable heir. And having a mage for a son put a rather conspicuous blemish on your otherwise wholesome and pious image, did it not?”  
“You… you were ashamed of me.” Connor observed barely above a whisper as he hung his head.  
“Connor… I…” Isolde began but couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

Eamon closed his eyes, apparently trying his damndest to maintain his composure. “I… I have heard enough. Arlessa Isolde, you are forthwith stripped of your title and banished from Ferelden from this day forward.”  
“Banishment? But… but… where will I go? The only place I belong is at your side, Eamon!” she whined.  
“My guards will accompany you to Orlais. Surely someone there has not yet heard of your treachery. Perhaps they will take pity on you.”  
“That’s it?! You’re sentencing her to a bloody holiday in Orlais?!” Alistair protested.  
“What would you have me do?!” Eamon shouted. “I will not murder the mother of my child. I cannot keep her near for fear my resolve shall weaken and I set her free.”  
“Then send her to Tevinter! To the Anderfels! I don’t care. Don’t just send her home with a damn slap on the wrist!” Alistair shouted.  
“I cannot grant her escorts all the way to the bloody Anderfels, Alistair. Redcliffe cannot spare the men. Orlais will have to do. These are my orders. Now get her out of my sight.” Eamon ordered.  
“NOOOO!” Isolde shrieked. “Connor! Please! I love you!”

Connor just withdrew and hid behind his father. Poor kid.

“He is no longer your concern.” Eamon declared as Isolde kicked and struggled to break free of the guards escorting her to the dungeon for the night.

“I… I’m sorry, Eamon. I’m so sorry you had to wake up to this, I really am.” Alistair offered softly and placed his hand on Eamon’s shoulder before his words grew more severe. “But mark my words: Letting that woman live will come back to haunt you.”  
“My decision is final.” Was all he said in return. “I heard mention of Teyrn Loghain.” Eamon said, intent on returning to business as soon as possible. “Tell me everything.”

We all took turns filling him in on all he’d missed. And I gotta tell you, hearing it all in one go like that—it was a lot to take in. My head was reeling and I was the one actually living it. I can’t imagine how Eamon must have felt.

“This is most troubling. There is much to be done, that is true. But I should first be thankful to those who have done so much. Grey Warden, you have not only saved my life, but kept my family safe as well—regardless of what it has become. I am in your debt. Will you permit me to offer you reward for your service?”

“Oooh this sounds promising.” Zevran grinned as he rubbed his greedy little hands together.  
“As I said, we’re battling a Blight and trying to end this civil war. If I can call you an ally in that fight, I’d say that’s reward enough.” I answered.  
“I understand but, regardless of your motivations, you are worthy of a reward. I would like to honor your efforts. Nothing more.”  
“As you wish then.”  
“Then allow me to declare you, and those traveling with you, champions of Redcliffe. You will always be a welcome guest within these halls. And for you, Warden, a shield of the same make as those that have been given to our finest knights.”

I appreciated the gesture, but it was just going to collect dust with Teagan’s helmet. Ah well. It’s the thought that counts. Maybe Alistair could find a use for it.

“Thank you, your grace.” I bowed my head.  
“We should speak of Loghain, brother. There is no telling what he will do once he learns of your recovery.” Teagan suggested.  
“Loghain instigates a civil war even though the darkspawn are on our very doorstep. Long have I known him. He is a sensible man; one who never desired power.”  
“Things change.” I scoffed.  
“I was there when he announced he was taking control of the throne, Eamon. He is mad with ambition, I tell you.” Teagan insisted.  
“Mad indeed. Mad enough to kill Cailan, to attempt to kill me and destroy my lands. Whatever happened to him, Loghain must be stopped.”  
“You can unite the nobility against him, can you not?” I inquired.  
“I could unite those opposing Loghain, yes, but not all oppose him. He has some powerful allies. We have no time to wage a campaign against him. Someone must surrender if Ferelden is to have any chance at fighting the darkspawn. I will spread word of Loghain’s treachery, both here and against the king. But it will but be a claim made without proof. Those claims will give Loghain’s allies pause, but we must combine it with a challenge Loghain cannot ignore. We need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than Loghain’s daughter, the queen.”

Ah, here it comes. Andraste’s blood do I hate being right all the time.

“Are you referring to Alistair, brother? Are you certain?” Teagan asked, clearly shocked Eamon was even toying with the notion of making him king.  
“I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative, but the unthinkable has occurred.”  
“Gee, thanks. If you think you’d be such a better choice, why don’t you be king?” Alistair asked bitterly.  
“Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would be seen as opportunists, no better than Loghain. Your claim is by blood.”  
“And what about me? Does anyone care what I want?” Alistair demanded, clearly beyond aggravated his worst fear was coming true. I slipped my hand into his, hoping it offered some slight consolation. He squeezed it gently to let me know he appreciated the gesture.

“You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?” Eamon asked.  
“I… but I… no, my lord.” Alistair acquiesced. I don’t think he had much fight left in him, the poor dear.  
“I see only one way to proceed. I will call for a Landsmeet—a gathering of all of Ferelden’s nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. Then the business of fighting our true foe can begin. What say you to that, my friend? I do not wish to proceed without your blessing.”  
I was about to respond, but Sten opened his mouth first. “Why do we not just kill him?”  
“Killing him will only make him a martyr and rally his allies against us.” Eamon countered.  
I let out an audible sigh. “Be straight with me here. Do you think this Landsmeet idea will actually work?”  
“That depends. If we cannot gain a consensus in the Landsmeet for Alistair, we cannot afford to oppose Loghain either.”  
“That means Loghain could still win. A man who killed his own king. A man who’s gone mad with power.” I reasoned.  
“We must see that he does not.” Eamon insisted plainly.  
“Well then, it seems we have little choice.”  
“Very well. I will put the word out. But before we proceed, it seems we have the matter of the mage… my son’s tutor. Jowan, you tried to assassinate me and set into motion a chain of events that nearly destroyed everything I cherish. You also tried to assassinate Alistair, whom I also care deeply for. What have you to say in your own defense?” Eamon asked.  
“Nothing, my lord… other than to say I am sorry. I expect no mercy for what I have done.”  
“I see. Lady Cousland, have you anything to say on Jowan’s behalf?” Eamon inquired.  
“No, my lord. Nothing at all.”

Had Jowan merely been responsible for poisoning Eamon, I may have been willing to forgive him. To show mercy. We can all screw up spectacularly once in our lives, after all. But when he tried to poison Alistair, well, he’d fucked with the wrong man. And the wrong woman, for that matter.

“Very well. He is to be executed at dawn. Take him away.”

“Wait!” Connor shouted as he stepped in front of the mage. Whaaaa?  
“Connor, what are you doing?” Eamon questioned.  
“Am I to be banished as well, father? My crimes are far worse than Mother’s. She never actually succeeded in killing someone. I killed hundreds. What’s it to be for me, father? Hot oil? The rack? Perhaps you would see me executed as well?”  
“You are blameless in this, my son. Stand aside.” Eamon ordered.  
“I will not. Has enough blood not been spilled, father? Must we add one more corpse to the pyres?”  
“So, it’s come to this. You stand up for the man who tried to kill your own father?” Eamon’s words were dripping with a mixture of resentment and anguish.  
“I stand up for the hope that every man can be better if given a chance. Even him. Even me.”

Wow. So wise for someone so young. I could not have possibly disagreed with him more, of course, but I had to give credit where it was due. Connor was standing up for what he believed was right. I know I had absolutely no reason to, but I felt… proud of him. Maybe I had one or two maternal instincts after all. Fancy that.

“What do you wish me to do, Connor?” Eamon asked.  
“I am to go to the Circle, yes? Let the mage come with me. If he is still sentenced to death there, so be it. At least I will have tried. I cannot have one more life on my conscience.”

Eamon looked at me. I looked at Alistair. This wasn’t my vengeance to exact. It wasn’t me Jowan had tried to kill. Alistair was clearly weighing the pros and cons. He wanted Jowan dead for what he’d put us through, but he did not want to add any more weight to Connor’s burden. In the end, he gave me a nod, which I then gave to Eamon.

“So be it. Jowan, I hereby turn you over to the tower of the Circle of Magi. May the Maker have mercy on your soul.”  
“I… thank you, my lord.” Jowan said in his most sincere tone as he dropped to his knees and bowed.  
“Thank you, father.” Connor gave Eamon a hug. Eamon reluctantly gave him a hug back before Connor retired to his room.

“Now, back to the matter of the Landsmeet. It will take some time to recall my forces and organize our allies. I would prefer to wait until that is done before calling the meeting.”  
“Good. We still have two treaties to secure. We are headed to Orzammar as soon as possible.” I explained.  
“Yes, we will need all the allies we can get if we are to defeat the darkspawn horde.” Eamon affirmed. “Now, if there is nothing else—”  
“Brother, these people are our guests. Should we not feed them? Offer them a place to stay?” Teagan asked.  
“Yes, yes of course. You’ll forgive me if I don’t much feel like entertaining. All this… it’s… too much. Please help yourselves to whatever you wish and stay as long as you’d like. I… I think I’ll go spend some time with my son. We have much to discuss. If you’ll excuse me.” And just like that, he left.

Great. Now what? We all just stood there for a few moments in stunned silence. Everything happened so fast. I thought I’d feel a sense of relief, of accomplishment once we finally woke Eamon. Instead I felt… melancholy. A profound sadness settled into my heart, not only for Eamon’s circumstances but for Alistair’s. But, leave it to Zevran to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“The Arl is awake, the bitch is locked in a dungeon, and I fight beside the next king of Ferelden. If ever there was an occasion for drinking and merry-making, I daresay this is it.” Zevran posed.

We all just glared at him.

“…What? What did I say?”  
“I’ll tell the servants to prepare a sizeable supper. After the charred remnants we had for breakfast, you must all be starving.” Teagan offered.  
“If at all possible, please tell them to bring wine.” I requested. Teagan gave me a nod.  
“Wait, to clarify, I mean an obscene amount of wine. Literally all the wine you currently possess.”  
Teagan let out a slight chuckle. “Of course, my lady. Anything for the hero of the hour.”


	34. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Alistair grapples with his past as well as his future, as Eamon has decided to put him forth as King of Ferelden. Rather than facing the harshness of reality, Scarlett decides to push it off for one more day and allows her companions a night of indulgence and fun, courtesy of Zevran's drinking games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit fluffy, but I think there's some important character development. Thanks so much to those who regularly read and comment. It really keeps me going. I welcome everyone's feedback and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> And a special thanks to PookatheCat for her input! Read her latest awesome story here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6731386/chapters/15385975

The look on Alistair’s face once Eamon left the room—it was like I was staring at a stranger. I don’t quite know how to describe it. So many different emotions were showing through those honey-colored eyes—none of them reminiscent of his typical demeanor. His mirth, his playfulness, his energy… all of it gave way to a look of betrayal, anger, jealousy, bitterness, pain, dejection… He just looked so… lost. And no matter what angle I tried to approach the situation from, my words were failing me. I had no idea what I should say to him. Up until now, he seemed to completely accept what Isolde had done and just wanted to put this entire ordeal behind him. What I saw a few minutes ago—the speech, the pleading with Eamon to end Isolde’s life—it really threw me. The Alistair I knew and loved would never be so ruled by vengeance or wrath (that was typically my role in the relationship, remember?). So, who was this man standing before me? 

Well, only one way to find out. 

“Are… are you alright?” I asked as I gently placed a hand on Alistair’s shoulder.  
He just scoffed. “I should have known. All my life he’s chosen Isolde over me. Why should this have played out any differently?”  
“I’m sure he didn’t make the decision lightly.” I offered.  
“There was no consideration at all, Scarlett. Absolutely no regard for how I felt about anything. Eamon is the only father I’ve ever known, and he’s treated me like nothing more than a pebble in his shoe.”  
“That’s not true, Alistair. Eamon cares for you, in his way.”  
He let out a short, bitter laugh. “‘In his way.’ Right. His way is always putting that miserable shrew on a pedestal and not caring a lick about what happens to me. You heard him when he said I should assume the throne, right?” 

I nodded slowly and opted not to vocalize a reply. Best to just let him vent. 

“It wasn’t ‘Oh, I think Alistair will do an excellent job.’ Or ‘I have faith that Alistair is exactly what this country needs.’ It was ‘Well, things have gone to shit and Alistair is our very last resort. It’s worth a shot.’ Really makes me want to step up, let me tell you. Really lights a fire in my belly to know I’m only worth a damn when he’s desperate.” He paused for a beat before continuing his rant. “And banishment to Orlais? Are you kidding me?! That woman deserves nothing less than what I said—a life for a life.”  
“Where is this coming from, Alistair? Back in Haven you had a very different perspective on this whole thing. This just… it really doesn’t seem like you. What happened? You know you can talk to me.” 

He opened his mouth to immediately respond but thought better of it and considered my question for a few seconds. Then he hung his head and let out a heavy sigh. 

“I… I guess my emotions got the better of me. Being in these halls, seeing Eamon and Isolde in person, I don’t know. It was like being sent off to the monastery all over again. That same feeling of humiliation… of rejection. I’m not a child anymore, I know that. But somehow, him choosing her over me yet again… it still hurts. You’d think I would have learned my lesson by now. I’m not Isolde. I’m not Connor. I’ll never come close.” Tears began to form in his eyes and his voice grew hoarse before he whispered, “Though I may love him like a father, he will never love me like his son.” 

“Oh Alistair…” I said in my softest, gentlest tone. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” I brought him in for a tight hug, which he fought at first, but eventually succumbed to my embrace by wrapping his arms around me and slowly breathing in the scent of my hair. It seemed to calm him down—at least a little. I felt for him, I really did. I couldn’t truly know what he was feeling, though—I had always been the apple of my father’s eye. It was obvious that he favored me over Fergus my entire life. I couldn’t tell you why. But Alistair never knew that kind of affection. He just so badly wanted to be loved—to be accepted. To know the warmth and comfort that comes from familial bonds. Well, I couldn’t give him that, but perhaps I could give him the next best thing. You know what they say, misery loves company. 

“I know it won’t mean much,” I began as I let him go and found his eyes, “but perhaps I could offer you a little… perspective.”  
“Perspective?”  
“Well, yes. Not to belittle the way you’re feeling, but consider those in your company, hm? Zevran’s never known his parents either and he was sold into slavery as a child to boot. Leliana’s parents are gone. My entire family was murdered. Morrigan’s own mother never loved her—merely used her as a means to an end. Connor just watched his mother—a woman who, despite her many many faults, clearly loves him and was willing to give her life for his—being carried off to a dungeon, likely never to see her again.”  
“Yes, yes, we’re a collection of miserable sods constantly plagued by death and tragedy. Is there a point or…”  
“My point is that all of us have suffered, Alistair. We know the pain that comes with losing our loved ones, one way or another. I know it’s small consolation but… you’re not alone. Not in this. And as long as I’m around, not ever.” I smiled softly. 

He laced my fingers in his before stepping closer so his body was less than an inch away from mine, unshed tears still glittering in his forlorn gaze. He was heartbroken, that much was clear. But suddenly, it didn’t seem like this was just about Eamon anymore. 

“…And how long might that be? Scarlett, this whole king thing...” he said barely above a whisper as he let the sentence trail off.

I didn’t have a response. I just felt my chest grow heavy and a lump beginning to form in my throat. He was right. All of it had now become real. The love of my life would soon assume the throne of Ferelden, if things go our way. And that begged the one-million-sovereign question: What in the Maker’s name did that mean for us? 

Before I could say anything, the rest of our companions walked up to join us. 

“My my my do you two look miserable. Do you wish me to finish the job?” Morrigan inquired.  
“Or me?” Leliana asked.  
“Or me?” Zevran joined in.  
“…The job?” I inquired.  
“That woman should not be permitted to continue drawing breath. She… she should not have said that about your mother. It was needlessly cruel, even for one such as her ilk.” Morrigan explained.  
“Yes, and Alistair deserves to be avenged. As do all who lost their lives here.” Leliana chimed in.  
“As for me, well, I found the whole thing rather anticlimactic. Killing her is sure to spice things up a bit.” Zev grinned.  
“I don’t think that’s an option. We need Eamon as an ally more than we need vengeance. Killing Isolde could put that alliance into jeopardy. But thanks, guys. It’s always nice to know you care.” I gave a slight smile.  
“That’s a very mature attitude, Scarlett. I’m very impressed.” Wynne offered in her usual kind, only slightly condescending tone. “It’s a shame Eamon had to wake up to such a mess but… that boy. I feel so sorry for him. Seeing his mother dragged off like that…”  
“Yet he uttered not a word of protest. Perhaps Connor sees Isolde for what she really is—a monster.” Alistair posed.  
“Oh, I don’t think so. He is but a child. After hearing everything his mother had done, that he himself had done, he was likely in a state of complete shock. I’m sure he was feeling scared, confused, hurt… but there is no bond greater than that between a mother and her son. He’ll soon realize what all this truly means. And that is the worst part.” Wynne explained. 

We all stood there and let the miserable silence hang heavy in the air. 

“I… I think I need to be alone for awhile. Excuse me.” Was all Alistair said as he left the room. Yikes. That did not bode well. Alistair was many things—a loner was not one of them. Still, if he wanted to find some solace in solitude, I certainly wasn’t going to stop him. 

After he left, everyone just stared at me expectantly. That’s one of the crappiest things about being the leader—everyone’s always looking to you for direction. And at this very moment, I didn’t have the foggiest clue as to where to go from here. 

Oh, sod it. Maybe Zevran was right. The job was done. Maybe we should all just get knackered and live a little. Maker knows we could all use a break. A little distraction sounded like just the remedy we needed. Just one night of sitting around and drowning our sorrows with alcohol and belly laughs. Reality and all its cruelties could wait until tomorrow, right? 

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I need a drink.” Were my parting words as I took my leave to find the wine. 

“Hmm… perhaps I should rescind my remark about her maturity.” Wynne mused once she thought I was out of earshot.  
“I heard that!” I called back as I made my way down the hall to the kitchen. I grabbed a cask of wine and made my way to the washroom where the same elf who attended me last time was drawing me a bath. Bless her heart! 

Maker have mercy. Just when I thought steaming hot water enveloping my naked body like a silken blanket could not possibly get any more divine, I took a drink of wine. I sunk down as far as my long legs would allow as I sipped taste after taste of dry, fruity, intoxicating ecstasy. This… this was bliss. 

“Dinner will be ready shortly, my lady.” The elf informed me from the other side of the door. I just let out an exaggerated groan before mustering the will to get out of the steamy water. Aaaand I slipped and fell right back in. Eesh. Was I really that sloshed already? 

I saw the elf had laid a dress out for me upon entering my room. The garment was nothing special and I was actually extremely relieved upon learning that fact. It was a dark, emerald green—a very similar color to my eyes—and made of linen. The bateau neckline was attached to long, loose sleeves and the back did lace up, but only for the sake of proper fit—no corset in sight. Maker be praised! I wanted nothing to do with finery or pretense tonight. I even opted to keep my hair down and let it flow around me in loose waves. No fancy combs or ribbons or braids. No bells. No whistles. Tonight, I just wanted to be Scarlett. 

As I slipped into it I heard a knock at my door. 

“Come in.” I called once I was decent.  
“Well, don’t you look… nice.” Leliana observed, clearly disappointed in the simplicity of the green frock.  
“Gee, thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “I happen to like it, thankyouverymuch.”  
“I meant no offense. You’re lucky you’re a natural beauty, Scarlett. Most women need a bit of help, but if anyone can make such a plain dress look anything but, it’s you.”  
“Forgiven.” I smiled brightly. “What’s up? I regret to inform you there are no uncomfortable shoes I can pawn off on you this time.”  
“Well, it was worth a shot.” She smirked. “But really I was just thinking about the last time we were here. How we primped and polished and messed about. It was fun. Despite the burden we knew lay ahead of us, there was a sense of hope in the air. This time… I don’t know. Everything feels so… oppressive.”  
I let out a heavy sigh. “I know. Coming back here, witnessing that horrid display with Eamon and Isolde and Connor… it’s weighing heavily on everyone.”  
“Especially Alistair. Have you been to see him?” she asked.  
“No. He seemed to mean it when he said he wanted to be alone. He knows I’m here if he needs me.”  
“I suppose there is the proverbial elephant in the room…” Leliana began carefully. “What are you two going to do, should he become king?”

Before she could finish I grabbed the wine and happily drank it down, making exaggerated gulping noises as I swallowed. Guess who was doing everything within her power to avoid that question like the plague! Ding ding ding! It’s me! 

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my excessive drinking. Let’s go eat.” 

…

There was a grand feast laid out on the familiar oblong wooden table, but no one looked remotely interested. The delicious aroma permeated throughout every corner of the vast dining room, each well-prepared morsel garnished and displayed with decadence—it should have been enough to arouse anyone’s appetite. But all my companions just sat in their chairs, twiddling their thumbs, sighing, looking tired and defeated and downhearted. Well, all but Shale—that golem couldn’t fit in a chair if its life depended on it. It opted to sit on the floor near Sten. Andraste’s blood, the room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Ugh. Cheering anyone up was certain to be an uphill battle. At this point, I didn’t know how many of those I had left in me. 

“Ah, Lady Cousland, you look stunning.” Teagan complimented as he moved to pull out my chair for me. Before he could actually complete the action, however, Alistair stepped in.  
“Allow me.” He offered as he pulled the chair out and offered me his hand. I took it with a bright smile and he laid a gentle kiss on the back of my hand before I took a seat. I honestly hadn’t expected him to show up. It was a most welcome surprise.

“Ah, Alistair, so good to see you in better spirits. I… wasn’t sure you would be joining us.” Teagan greeted.  
“Yes, well, I couldn’t very well miss the opportunity to help a lady to her seat.” He smirked as he took a seat beside me.  
“I believe I had the situation well in hand.” Teagan countered. Alistair shot him a nasty glare. Aww. Did I mention how cute he is when he’s jealous?  
“Boys, boys, boys. Believe it or not, I’m a big girl. I dress myself, I sharpen my own sword, I even, on occasion, pull out my own chair. I know it may be hard to believe, but somehow, I manage.” I smirked.  
“Of course, of course. It’s silly to stand on ceremony on a night such as this. With all that’s happened we… we have felt the world spin round more than once. Let us sit down to a quiet meal and see if we cannot bring it to a pause.” Teagan suggested as he snapped his fingers and the servants began plating our food. 

“Eamon and Connor wished me to pass along their apologies for not being here. Neither currently have much of an appetite, I’m afraid.” Teagan explained.  
“There is nothing to forgive. I know how hard this has been.” I replied. I squeezed Alistair’s hand gently as I saw him fight the frown moving to replace his half-hearted smile at the mention of their names. 

And then came the awkward silence that stretched on forever and a day. All that could be heard was the sound of chewing, creaking chairs, and metal flatware as everyone poked and prodded the food on their plates and lifted their goblets off the table. It was… beyond depressing.

“I have an idea!” Zevran exclaimed so loudly it made everyone in the room jump.  
“…Dare I ask?” I responded to his sudden outburst.  
“Let us play a game.”  
“…What sort of game?” I asked incredulously.  
“The fun sort! Come, come, let me show you. Hold out your hands like this.” He placed both of his hands out in front of him and spread his fingers wide open. Everyone, even Morrigan, Sten, and Shale followed suit. I guess we were all just that desperate for something… anything to fill the miserable silence.

“The game is simple: You make a statement, such as, ‘Never have I ever had green eyes.’ In my case, this is true. In your case, my jade-eyed beauty, you must put a finger down so you are left with nine, and take a sip of wine.”  
“But how do you win?” Leliana asked.  
“By being the last person with a digit extended, my lithe little rogue.” Zev explained.  
“Oh this sounds like fun. Let’s try it!” Leliana replied excitedly. Alistair just looked at me. I just shrugged and placed my hands on the table to mirror Zev’s.  
“Very well. I will go first.” Morrigan volunteered. I was shocked, to say the least. She wasn’t typically much of a joiner. She must have had a good one in mind. “Never have I ever believed in the Maker.” 

Damn. Everyone but Shale and Sten took a drink and put a finger down. Leliana shot her a glare, but even she wasn’t feeling up to another theological debate and opted to just let it slide. Wynne was next. 

“Never have I ever played this game before tonight.” She grinned. Oh how droll. Still, only Zevran put his finger down and took a drink. 

Alistair joined in. “Never have I ever had a… Zevran, what do you call those markings again?”  
“A tattoo.” Zevran explained as he took a drink and put a finger down.  
“Right. That.” Alistair replied as Leliana also, stealthily, took a drink. Interesting. I guess I must have missed it when we were retrieving the urn. It must be somewhere very… private. 

“My turn!” Leliana called excitedly. “Never have I ever been a Grey Warden. Haha!” 

Gah! Alistair and I both took drinks and put our fingers down. 

“My turn?” Shale asked. Zev gave the golem a nod. “Never have I ever slept.”  
“What, never?” Alistair asked.  
“Not that I recall, at least. I have no need to sleep. My body does not tire or do other… ugh… flesh-related functions.” Shale explained with disgust.  
“But… don’t you get bored? Wouldn’t you want to dream at least?”  
“I do not dream. This is what it does when it sleeps. It paws its nose and mumbles incoherently.”  
“Yes, of course. I thought we all… huh… you watch me?” Alistair asked, clearly creeped out by the notion.  
“I watch all closely when they are still at night. There is little else to do.” The golem confessed.  
“For… hours and hours?”  
“I count the breaths. It helps to overcome the urge to crush their faces while they sleep.”  
“Well… I won’t be doing much of that anymore.” Alistair put his finger down slowly and took a drink, never taking his eyes off the huge stone creature. We all followed suit and I couldn’t help but giggle. I was pretty sure Shale was fucking with him. …Mostly. 

“Well, this is fun, but all of you are being far too… tame.” Zevran grinned. “Never have I ever fantasized about Scarlett.” He declared as he put a finger down and took a drink.  
“Isn’t the point of the game to get people other than yourself to put a finger down?” I asked as I felt myself beginning to blush.  
“Usually, but this one was well worth the sacrifice. Look around you.” 

Leliana took a drink. Alistair took a drink. Teagan took a drink on the sly. Maker’s breath, even Morrigan took a drink. Aaaand now I was turning so red I was almost purple. Wonderful. 

“Teagan?” Alistair observed before his next outburst. “Morrigan?! Seriously?!”  
“Oh yes, do explain my raven-haired enchantress. I know for a fact you do not typically favor the fairer sex. What is it about our statuesque leader that entices you so?” Zevran implored, his eyes wide with unbridled curiosity.  
“I do not owe anyone an explanation, elf. Least of all you.” Morrigan hissed.  
“Oh leave her alone, Zevran.” Wynne chuckled. “As you said, Scarlett is our leader. It is only natural for our admiration of her to manifest in… other ways.”  
“True…” Zevran began. “But she is no leader to the Bann, yet she somehow bewitched him as well.” Zevran grinned as he gestured toward Teagan.  
Teagan let out a nervous laugh and cleared his throat. “I… um… well, whose turn is it? Qunari. What about you?” 

Sten looked very solemn and pensive for a few moments. “I have never danced.” was all he offered.  
“What? Never?!” Leliana asked, clearly shocked and bewildered by the admission. As for me? I wasn’t a bit surprised. “We must remedy this immediately. Come.” She got out of her chair and tugged at Sten’s arm. He didn’t budge. “Oh come on, you big softy!” She goaded him on as she tried to pull him out of his chair with all her strength. He let out a groan and stood up. 

“I… I have never danced either.” Shale admitted. Oh, this I had to see.  
“Well, that simply won’t do. Zevran, would you kindly be my assistant?” Leliana requested.  
“Of course.” 

“Sten, go stand face to face with Shale, and do as we do.” Leliana commanded as she went around the table to meet Zevran. She placed his hand around her waist before placing her hand in his other one. “Go on then.” 

Sten looked at Zevran and mirrored his posture and stance to the best of his ability, placing his arm around Shale’s… I guess you could call it a waist? 

“Wonderful. Okay, here we go. And… one two three, one two three, one two three…” Leliana counted off as she and Zevran moved in a simple box step. Well, I say simple, but really, it was anything but for two creatures such as Sten and Shale. It took everything I had not to burst out laughing as those two clumsy giants attempted to move gracefully in sync with one another. 

“Ow.” Sten groaned and Shale accidentally stepped on his foot.  
“Oh don’t give me that. Do you see what I have to work with here? Have you no sense of tempo?” Shale whined. 

After a few tries they sort of got the hang of it and Leliana went rummaging through her pack to grab her flute. “Partner up, everyone! As a good friend once told me, ‘Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; life is about learning to dance in the rain.’” 

I couldn’t help but smile. What an apt platitude for how we were all feeling this night. The storm wasn’t going to pass over anytime soon. We all knew that. We should make the best of the time we had while we had it. We should find the light in the darkness. The sliver of joy amidst the despair. 

Zevran led Wynne to the floor. Teagan asked Morrigan to join him, and although she looked utterly disgusted with the prospect at first, Teagan whispered something in her ear and she acquiesced. He must have paid her quite the compliment—Morrigan, I’ve learned, is a sucker for flattery. Shale and Sten continued to shuffle along as best they could. 

“Aha! Found it!” she held the flute up in exultation. “Well, what are you waiting for, Alistair?”  
“What do you mean?” He asked.  
“Ask the lady to dance.” Leliana ordered.  
“I don’t really think—”  
“Ask!” Leliana demanded more forcefully before placing her lips on the reed and beginning to play a jaunty tune. 

Alistair begrudgingly got up from his chair and offered me his hand. “May I have this dance, my lady?”  
“Well, seeing as you’re just so eager and all, I suppose it would be cruel to deny you.” I teased as I took his hand and he led me out onto the floor. 

“I have told you I’m a terrible dancer, right? Like, really bad. Astoundingly bad. No sense of rhythm. Two left feet.” He went on as he placed his hand around my waist.  
“Well, I’m drunk, so if you step on my feet hopefully I won’t feel it.” I grinned. 

He let out a quiet chuckle and shook his head. 

“I confess I am pleasantly surprised you joined us.” I whispered in Alistair’s ear. “What changed your mind about being alone?”  
“The prospect of seeing you in a dress.” He whispered teasingly back.  
I felt a wide smile form across my lips. “I know it’s not much… Disappointed?”  
“Oh Scarlett… You are lovelier tonight than you have ever been.” He moved my hair aside and planted a soft, chaste kiss on my neck, gave me a warm smile, and pulled my body closer to his as he did his best to move to the beat of Leliana’s song. He really wasn’t much of a dancer but honestly, neither was I. All I cared about was that for the first time in hours, Alistair was behaving like Alistair again—playful, seductive, mischievous. Maker’s breath that man drives me crazy. 

“You’re feeling better about things, then?” I asked as I found his eyes.  
“I suppose you could say that. I mean, I’m by no means thrilled about the way things went down before, but… what’s done is done, and we still have a job to do. No point in dwelling on things I can’t change, right? And you were right, as usual. We’ve all faced some pretty terrible things when it comes to family. I was just whining and feeling sorry for myself. Eamon and Connor have a lot more reason to be upset than me.” He paused for a beat. “Besides, what man in his right mind would miss the chance to accompany the most beautiful woman in all Thedas to dinner?” He grinned. I blushed. Surprise surprise. 

When Leliana’s song came to a close, everyone applauded her efforts. And although most of us were terrible at it, somehow the dance managed to bring us a few smiles. 

“I believe a toast is in order.” Teagan declared as he went back to the table to retrieve his wine. We all made our way back to our place settings and did the same. “Thank you all so much for everything you’ve done for Redcliffe.” Teagan declared as he raised a glass. “To the heroes of Ferelden.” He raised his glass higher before taking a drink. 

“I’ll drink to that.” Zevran smirked as he took a sip. 

Everyone spent the rest of the night getting drunk and happy. There was teasing and joking and tittering and guffawing and believe it or not, there was even a little more dancing. Despite everything, we were having fun. Thank the Maker for small miracles. 

“I believe the time has come for me to retire, my lady.” Alistair got up from his chair and brought the back of my hand to his lips to plant another soft kiss there. Only this wasn’t your typical gentlemanly gesture—I felt him inconspicuously slip a small piece of paper into my palm. “Goodnight.” He flashed me a smile before leaving the room. 

“Yessss, I suppose we should all rest some get. Errr get some rest.” Teagan affirmed. “I don’t recall having such fun in ages! To new friends!” Teagan slurred as he finished the last of his wine. 

Everyone lifted what little remained in their glasses, downed it, and left to make their way to their respective chambers. Once the coast was clear, I hastily opened the note Alistair had left me. In his barely legible scrawl, it read: 

_Let’s finish what we started. Meet me in the library._

My heart beat faster with anticipation as I read the words, and I immediately left to find him. 

…

The library was just as beautiful as I remembered it. The books, the moonlight, the candles… but no sign of Alistair. Odd. I made my way down the long hallway lined with candles, peeking into each aisle to see if I could spy him. No luck. It wasn’t until I hit the back wall that I heard those familiar footsteps approaching. 

“You remember the last time we were here?” He asked as he slowly, deliberately made his way down the hall, once again extinguishing each candle he passed with his fingertips. 

I recalled how shy I felt last time. How unsure of myself. How I could barely stand to face him. This time, I turned around immediately. And there it was. That same hunger was in his eyes—that hunger I’d seen for the first time in this very room. That hunger reserved only for me. Oh my Maker… 

“How could I forget?” I asked softly.  
“You were standing right in that spot. And I slowly walked toward you… just like this…” He took his last steps toward me and was now only inches away. “And I wrapped my arm around your waist, just like this…” he recalled softly as he slipped his arm around me and pulled me closer.  
“And we shared our first real kiss…” I whispered against his lips.  
He nodded slowly without fully closing the distance between us. “I think I should like to do that again.”  
“Well, that’s the thing about first kisses—you can only have them once.” I smirked.  
“I know I’ve kissed you here…” He brought his finger to my mouth and ran it slowly over my slightly parted lips. Then he moved his hand down my body and started rubbing between my legs over top of the fabric of my dress. “But I’ve not kissed you… here…” I closed my eyes and felt my breathing grow heavier as he removed his hand and slowly dropped to his knees in front of me. I grabbed the nearby ladder to steady myself as he lifted up my skirt. 

“Hold this, would you?” He asked with a smirk as he handed me the bunched up fabric. I gladly obeyed. He grabbed either side of my panties and pulled them down painfully slowly. He brought his face close to my most private spot and inhaled deeply before parting my lips with the tip of his tongue and slowly running it up the length of me. 

“Maker’s breath…” I gasped as I felt the moistness of his tongue beginning to explore me. Shallowly at first, slight flicks and licks at my folds here and there. Until he found my round little bud, swollen and aching for his touch. He gently sucked it into his mouth and my eyes rolled with pleasure as I felt my knees grow weak. I held onto the ladder for dear life as I felt him slip a finger inside of me, his mouth never ceasing to work its magic. The dual sensation—it was almost too much to bear. Then I felt him push another finger in and by the second pump of his hand I arched my back and came hard all over his face. He must have felt me because he let out a deep moan between my legs as soon as I went over the edge. 

Before I could even process what was happening he immediately stood up, unfastened his trousers, lifted my legs off the ground and drove himself deep inside me. He thrust into me so hard I almost lost my grip on the ladder. I don’t know if he was getting stronger or if he had just been holding back before now, but Maker help me he certainly wasn’t holding back any longer. I wrapped my legs tightly around him and repeatedly cried out his name. People probably heard me. In that moment, I so didn’t care. My mind could focus on nothing but the taste of me on his lips, the tight grip of his hands digging into my thighs, the animalistic sounds of his grunts and moans and ragged breaths as he continued driving in and out of me over and over and over again. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demanded as his pace quickened. “Promise me.”  
“I… I’m yours. I promise.” I managed to get out between my heavy, quickened breaths.  
“Forever.” He stopped for a moment and looked deeply into my eyes, awaiting my answer. I kissed him with all the power I could muster before breaking away from his lips and vowing, “Forever.” 

He kissed me hard again and resumed his hurried, unyielding rhythm. Only a few seconds went by before I felt that familiar heat beginning to grow from deep within me. 

“Oh Alistair… I’m… I’m…” I couldn’t even finish before the sharp sensation of pure ecstasy washed over every inch of my body. He let out a deep, guttural groan as his release followed, sending a shiver down my spine in the best way. He slowly put my legs back down and I let go of the ladder to wrap my arms around him. The look in his eyes then… despite how forceful and deliberate he’d been only a few seconds ago… the look was something fragile. Exposed. Delicate. 

I held him tight and whispered into his ear, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”  
He nodded slowly in response and held me close. “I love you, Scarlett.” He avowed in a shaky whisper.  
“And I love you.” I smiled warmly. “Now, I think we should maybe head to bed. It’s getting late.” I grabbed his hand and began to lead the way.  
“Huh… There I was thinking I’d have to literally pry you away from all these books and you’re the one dragging me off to bed. I guess this means you’re ready for round two already?” he grinned as he followed me.  
I shook my head and let out a slight chuckle. “Some people actually use beds for, you know, sleeping.”  
“Yes, well, other people won’t have you lying beside them.”  
“Flatterer.” I grinned. 

Before long we found my bedroom door, crawled into bed, and fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in ages. No nightmares. No darkspawn. No Archdemon. Just the soothing breaths of the man I love tickling my skin, the warmth of his body against mine, the musky scent of his hair. It was the perfect reprieve from such an otherwise atrocious day. 

And then morning came and fucked it all up. 

“Scarlett! Wake up!” Morrigan demanded forcefully as she burst through the door—she didn’t even bother knocking. Oh. This can’t be good. 

“What? What is it?!” I sat up immediately and looked around the room while grabbing the sword I’d stashed beneath my pillow. Alistair was still dead to the world. Ugh. I don’t know how he managed it, but since he was healed by those ashes that boy could sleep through just about anything. 

“Connor and Isolde. They’re gone.”


	35. Surprise, Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Connor, Isolde, and Jowan have vanished, and Scarlett is so not looking forward to delivering the news to an already downtrodden Alistair. It is possible, however, that things are not always as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to bid Redcliffe adieu for a while, but first, Scarlett has some loose ends to take care of. I hope you enjoy it, and comments and kudos are always super appreciated!

“…Gone? What do you mean they’re gone?” I asked, still trying to force myself to wake up and get a grasp on the situation.  
“Did I stutter? Gone. As in, they are no longer here. We are bereft of their presence. Do you require a visual aid of some sort? Shall I draw you a diagram?”  
“I get it, Morrigan.” I groaned as I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. Wine and I, we have a love-hate relationship, you see. I love drinking it, then hate myself the next morning. This news was doing nothing for my head. “What in the Maker’s name happened?”  
“First, can you do something about… that?” She flitted her hand at Alistair’s almost-naked form lying beside me. “The sight of so much of his skin is making me ill.” 

I rolled my eyes and placed the blanket on top of him. He grabbed at it and snuggled into the warm fabric cocoon. I couldn’t help but smile and run the back of my hand down the side of his cheek. He’s so adorable when he sleeps. 

“Scarlett!” Morrigan snapped her fingers at me. “Wake up. We need to deal with this.”  
“Right. Right. Sorry. So, what happened? Who discovered they were missing?”  
“Your mutt, as luck would have it. The Mabari had grown so accustomed to guarding the maleficar that he tried breaking down the kennel door when he sensed something was amiss. By the time someone heard the ruckus, ‘twas unfortunately too late. All three of them had fled.”  
“Do we know where they went? Are they traveling together?”  
“I have told you everything I know. So, what say you? To the chase?” 

I thought about it for a moment, then settled on a firm “No.” 

“…No?” Morrigan inquired, clearly puzzled. 

“No, we’ve already wasted too much time on all this. I think it’s safe to assume Connor has Jowan’s protection should he run into trouble, and to be perfectly blunt, he’s not our problem. Isolde running amok isn’t the best news, but let’s be real here—she could have just as easily stirred up trouble for us in Orlais, had she made it there. We can’t keep devoting our limited time and resources to minor threats—not when we have an Archdemon breathing down our necks. We set out to gain Eamon as an ally. We’ve successfully secured that alliance. We’re done here.”  
“Why Scarlett, I daresay that is the most pragmatic thing you have uttered in ages. But what will your beloved prince say, I wonder? He seems to just adore being at Eamon’s beck and call. The Arl will no doubt wish us to seek out his son.”  
“Let me worry about that. I can be quite persuasive when I want to be. Especially when it comes to Alistair.” I smirked.  
“Ugh. Do spare me the details.” She scoffed as a disgusted look befell her face. “Shall I rouse the others then?”  
“I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Morrigan.” She gave me a nod and left the room. 

I lay back down in bed so my face was level with Alistair’s. He looked so calm. So at peace. I really, really, did not want to be the one to rip him away from that sweet serenity by being the bearer of even more bad news. Even so, we had to get a move on. 

“Alistair…” I whispered into his ear as I trailed soft kisses from his earlobe along his jawline. I saw a slow smile form across his lips but his eyes never opened. 

“Alistair…” I called louder as my kisses turned into nibbles and I ran my fingers through his disheveled hair. He let out a deep purr as his eyelids slowly fluttered open. 

“Good morning.” I smiled into his eyes as I ran my hand down his cheek. 

Without saying a word, he pulled my body close to his and brought me in for a deep, passionate kiss. I gently broke it as I tried to muster up the courage to break the news to him. He spoke before I had the chance. 

“Mmm I was having the most wonderful dream. I was lying in bed with an irresistible goddess—who, come to think of it, bore a rather striking resemblance to you—and... wait a minute… am I still dreaming? I must be… You’re far too beautiful to be real.” He spoke softly against my lips as he rubbed his nose against mine. I nuzzled him back and gave him a bright smile as I felt the inevitable blush invade my cheeks.

“You’re very sweet.” I whispered back.  
“Nope, just honest. And damn lucky. Of all the men in Thedas you chose me. I… I just can’t get over it. I can’t believe I can call you mine.” He brushed his lips against mine as I felt his hand beginning to slide up my thigh.  
“Alistair…” I began as I moved my hand to stop him from going any further.  
“Yeeees?” He called back as he began nibbling at my neck, completely undeterred.  
“There’s… there’s something I need—”  
“That’s quite a coincidence. There’s something I need, too. There’s something I need very, very badly.” He interrupted playfully as he gently pushed me down and climbed on top of me.  
“You’re not listening. There’s something I need to—” I began before I felt his fingers beginning to tug at the waistline of my panties and his hungry eyes stare into mine. I froze beneath his touch and he quickly grew impatient.  
“…Well? Are you going to help me or should I just rip them off you again?” He asked in a low, primal timbre.  
“But—”  
He silenced me with a forceful kiss and for the life of me I could not manage get a word out. Gah! And they call me the stubborn one! I resignedly raised my hips off the bed so he could pull them down.

“Oh Scarlett… Please…” he whispered against my lips as I felt the tip of his hardness pressed right against my slick folds. Despite all my tries to do the right thing, I wanted him too. I always wanted him. The castle could have been engulfed in flames and the walls could have been crashing down around us and I would still want him—I would still be completely powerless against those hungry hazel eyes. I raised my hips up to meet his and threw my head back in ecstasy as I felt him slide all the way inside me. I dug my nails into the flesh of his back and heard him groan as we moved together in a slow, unyielding rhythm. 

“Maker’s breath… you… you’re always so wet for me.” He managed to get out between his heavy breaths caressing my parted lips.  
“That’s… that’s because I always want you.” I panted as he continued driving himself inside me. “Every hour. Every minute. I crave you, Alistair.” I nipped at his lips as I wrapped my legs around him tighter, eliciting a deep, throaty moan. Apparently the admission had some effect on him, because he began thrusting harder. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out loud. And he went harder still. 

“Come for me, my love.” He demanded in a husky whisper against my ear as he moved his hand between us to rub my swollen clit and continued moving his length all the way in, and all the way out of me. “Give me what I crave.” 

After that it didn’t take much. A few more thrusts and rubs of his fingers and I felt wave after wave of pleasure erupt within me, my walls pulsating and spasming around the firm thickness of his cock. And that was his undoing. With a low growl he pumped his sweet nectar inside of me over and over and over until there was nothing left and he collapsed on top of me. 

“Maker have mercy.” I exclaimed as I tried to catch my breath. Alistair managed to lift his head to look up at me, his chin resting on my chest.  
“Well said.” He gave me a dizzy smile before he paused for a beat. “Did you mean that? You… crave me?”  
“Maker help me, I do. I can’t help myself.” I admitted.  
“Wow. That’s… WOW!” He beamed.  
“Yes yes. Despite your nervous ramblings, your less-than-stellar personal hygiene, your terrible listening skills… I find myself uncontrollably attracted to you.” I gave him a smirk.  
“Uh huh. And despite your quick temper, your infuriating obstinance, and general know-it-all…ness, I feel the same way. What a pair we do make.” He smirked back as he pushed himself up so his face was right above mine. “I love you, Ms. Know-It-All.”  
I let out a slight chuckle as I met his eyes above me. “And I love you, Mr. Stinky Socks.” He laughed softly as he leaned down and brushed his lips against mine.  
“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?”  
“Well—” I began but didn’t get much farther because we heard a rather forceful knock at the door.  
“Alistair!? Are you in there?!” Eamon called from the other side of the door as he repeatedly pounded his fist against it.  
“Er… just a moment!” Alistair called back, jumping out of bed and desperately trying to clothe himself as fast as humanly possible. “Maybe you should hide…” he whispered as he hopped on one foot, half-clad in his trousers.  
“What?”  
“Hide! Eamon shouldn’t know we were in here… together… doing… that…”  
“Doing what?” I asked. Alright, I knew what he meant, but he seemed so frazzled I couldn’t resist teasing him a little. Sue me.  
“You know what! That! The lamppost licking!”  
I let out a hearty laugh. I couldn’t help it. “Alistair, I am all but certain Eamon knows this is my room. What good would hiding do?”  
“ALISTAIR! OPEN THIS DOOR!” Eamon demanded.  
“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” he called.  
“Funny, I thought you already did.” I grinned as I slipped last night’s dress on over my nightshirt.  
A bright red blush painted his cheeks. “You’re evil, you know that?” 

I just gave him an innocent shrug as he finally got his tunic over his head and opened the door. 

“Alright, what is it? What is so damn important?” Alistair asked before seeing Eamon’s ashen countenance and distraught expression. Ugh. This is so not how I wanted this to go down. “What is it, Eamon? What’s wrong?” he asked again in a gentler tone.  
“Connor is gone. Jowan and Isolde are missing too. I fear they may have absconded with the boy during the night. I simply don’t know what to do. I’m fraught with worry. I…”

Alistair rested a comforting hand on Eamon’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ll find him.” Alistair vowed. Fuck. So much for pragmatism. 

“Have you investigated the cell where Isolde was being held? Perhaps there is some clue, some shred of evidence to suggest what may have happened.” I suggested.  
“Yes, of course. There was nothing. No signs of force or struggle. The lock wasn’t even broken. It was as if someone simply used a key to open the door.” Eamon explained.  
“Well, that limits the amount of people who had access then, right? Have you interrogated everyone who had a key to Isolde’s holding chamber?”  
“No. This is all happening so fast I… I hadn’t considered… I suppose that’s a good place to start. Alistair, if you would, inform the captain I wish to see him in my study immediately.” 

Alistair gave him a nod and left to do as he was asked. Eamon studied him as he made his way down the hall, then looked at the haphazard manner in which I was dressed. Uh oh. 

“Tell me, Lady Cousland, what is the nature of your relationship with our future king?” Eamon asked as soon as Alistair was out of earshot.  
“Your son and wife are missing and you’re worrying about my intentions with Alistair?” I asked skeptically. This conversation could not lead anywhere but to me being pissed off. I guarantee it.  
“I am currently a man of many worries, my lady. The whereabouts of my son is chief among them, but Alistair’s future is not far behind.”  
“Well, the way I see it, I have two ways I can answer you: I can tell you what you likely want to hear. I can lie and say it’s some mindless fling, some flight of fancy that has no meaning.”  
“Or…”  
“Or I can be honest and say he’s my only strength. My only peace. My only joy. My only love. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”  
“My, those are some affecting words, Lady Cousland. I can hear your sincerity in every syllable. But of course that begs the question: When the time comes, do you love him enough to let him go?”  
“I have no intention of letting him go. Ever.” I answered stubbornly.  
“I realize you two have grown close in your travels together. It’s only natural that a young man and young woman who are in each other’s company as much as you two should kindle a courtship. ‘Tis a common tale. But Alistair is going to be king. A king’s first and only love must be his country—his subjects. He is bound by duty to—”  
“Yes, Arl Eamon, I’m aware of this.” I interrupted, making no attempt to mask my flaring anger.  
“Then you know he will need to marry, to ensure the stability of Ferelden. You know he will need an heir.”  
“Yes, I’m aware of that as well. I’m aware that royal marriages have stronger ties to politics than love. I’m aware that the Cousland name no longer carries the same weight, now that my home has been burnt to a cinder and the rest of my kin have been wiped out. I’m aware that a marriage to Anora would be less divisive and more strategic than a marriage to me. I’m aware of all of this, even if Alistair isn’t.”  
“Well, my lady, you have me at a loss. It seems I’ve underestimated you.”  
“Most do. How else do you think I keep winning? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed.” 

I grabbed the handle and shut the door firmly in Eamon’s face. I know, I know. I shouldn’t have. He was under a lot of stress, and I was a guest in his home. What can I say? My infamous temper got the best of me. Listing everything I’d been thinking about regarding this whole king thing out loud… it was disheartening, to say the least. Once again, I was smack dab in the middle of a war of head versus heart. My brain told me the solution to my problem was simple—let him go. My heart, however, well, let’s just say the Maker Himself couldn’t keep me from Alistair’s side. 

Enough. Pants first; life-altering, heart-shattering decisions later. 

Once I was dressed and gathered all my things I went to get the others. I knocked on Leliana’s door first. 

“Good morrow, my Ferelden rose.” Zev greeted me shirtless, his pants loose and barely clinging to his hips. Umm… oh. Maybe I’d gotten my rooms confused? 

“Zevran? Did you and Leliana switch rooms?” I asked. He gave me a wicked grin and stepped out of the doorframe so I could see a scantily clad Leliana still fast asleep in the bed behind him. 

Wait a minute… did they… OH. MY. MAKER. 

“Did you two… I mean… Really?!”  
“Ah, a gentleman should never kiss and tell. Infer what you will.” Was all he offered.  
“Err… Do you want to wake her or should I?” I inquired, the shock still no doubt painfully apparent on my face.  
“Why don’t you? I… am not quite sure how she will react to my presence.” 

I walked over to the bed and knelt down. I reached over and shook her shoulders gently. 

“Leliana… come on. Time to wake up.” I called gently. She rubbed her eyes and then stretched her body to its fullest length before opening them.  
“Oh, Scarlett, I… I’m afraid I overslept. I… had the strangest dream.”  
“Oh, it was no dream, I can assure you. I am as real as it gets.” Zevran chimed in from the corner of the room.  
She gasped before shouting, “OUT! GET OUT!” 

Zev jumped, threw on his shirt, and left the room as quickly as his feet would carry him. 

“Oh curse that wine! Tis a vile drink that turns even the most respectable women into complete—”  
“Leliana, relax. This is not the end of the world. So you had a little fling, big deal.” I tried to assuage her shame as I sat on the corner of the bed.  
“I… I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen. I am better than that. I…”  
“Leliana, I know this might not be the most popular school of thought in this day and age, but sex should not cheapen a woman. If anything, it should make her stronger. You are not somehow lesser or shabby because you were intimate with someone. Own it. Let yourself feel passion. Treasure it. There are no second chances, not in times like these.” 

She took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. She seemed to relax, at least a little. 

“Scarlett?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Not a word of this. To anyone. Even Alistair. Promise me.” Her round cerulean eyes filled with earnest frailty found mine and she took my hand.  
I squeezed her hand and nodded. “I promise. Now get dressed.” I flashed her a smile before I got off the bed. She gave me a nod and a weak smile back before I left the room. 

I was about to fetch Wynne next but after I left Leliana’s room, I saw her already standing in the hallway with Meatball, ready for anything. 

“What has Zevran so jumpy? All I said was ‘good morning’ and he leapt nearly three feet into the air before skittering off.” She asked.  
“I… don’t know. Perhaps he had a rough night.” I bit my lips into a thin line to keep myself from tittering before I knelt down and scratched Meatball behind the ears.  
“I heard the boy is missing.” Wynne explained.  
I nodded. “Jowan and Isolde too. Eamon thinks they kidnapped him.”  
Wynne shook her head. “I do not think it is anything so sinister as all that.”  
“Why not?” I asked. 

Before she could answer, Teagan made his way down the hall, a doleful expression plastered on his face. 

“Lady Cousland, Eamon requests your presence in his study immediately.” 

I turned to Wynne and said, “Hold that thought,” before following Teagan’s lead. 

Upon entering the study, I noticed Eamon seated at his desk and a folded letter with the Guerrin seal in Alistair’s hand.

“What’s going on?” I asked.  
“I found this, on Eamon’s desk. We thought you should be here, in case…”  
“It’s a ransom note; I have no doubt of it. Does this woman’s depravity know no bounds?!” Eamon shook his fists in the air before slamming them down on the desk.  
“Well, we won’t know until we open it. What are we waiting for?” 

Alistair looked at Eamon, paperknife in hand, poised to break the seal. Eamon gave him a nod and break it he did. Then he began reading the contents of the letter aloud. 

_Father,_  
_I want to be honest and clear. Last night, I went down to the dungeon to visit mother. Seeing her like that, all bruised and shackled… She who fed me, clothed me, read me stories before bed, who cared for me in sickness… It was too much to bear. I stole the key and I set her free. I did not ask where she was going. I am not even sure she knew. She hugged me and kissed me goodbye and we parted ways. By the time you read this, Jowan and I will be well on our way to the Circle Tower, where I vow I will never harm another living creature as long as I live. I am sorry for not saying goodbye—I know I have already disappointed you in so many ways. I simply could not face you with another. Please do not come for me. This is where I belong. I will write you again, before long. Be well, Papa._  
_Love always,_  
_Connor_

Eamon shook his head in utter disbelief. “No, no. My son would never do something so rash. This letter must have been written under duress. I demand an investigation!” he shouted.  
“Just like your wife would never kill an innocent man?” Alistair asked carefully as he handed me the letter. Eamon had no reply. I could see his anger growing, but he uttered not a word. 

“Look at the penmanship, Eamon.” I suggested as I placed the letter face up on the desk in front of him. “Meticulous. If he were forced to write this, don’t you think there would be some sign of stress—of tension or strain? Would he have taken the pains to heat the wax and seal it if he were being abducted?” 

Eamon hung his head in defeat. “Is she always this perceptive?” He asked Alistair.  
“Oh, you have no idea. It’s maddening.” Alistair quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Eamon nodded before speaking softly, “Isolde was one thing but Connor… I… I was not ready to let him go. I only just got him back.”  
“Give him his space.” Alistair suggested. “All of this… it’s a lot for a young boy to deal with. He’ll come around in time. I did.” He gave Eamon a half-smile.  
“So you did.” Eamon tried to smile back before getting out of his chair and moving to give Alistair a quick hug. “Thank you. Lady Cousland, I wonder if I might have a few words with Alistair alone before you resume your journey.” 

I gave him a nod and left the room, closing the door behind me. Ugh. I knew exactly how that conversation was going to go. “Kings must place duty before selfish desires. You must be prepared to do whatever it takes to effectively rule Ferelden, including severing ties with your love. Kings must always make personal sacrifices for the greater good. Blah blah fucking blah.” 

I was half-tempted to eavesdrop on the conversation, but Wynne found me before I could make anything out. Rats. 

“Well?” She inquired.  
“Well, it seems Connor is responsible for Isolde’s escape, and he and Jowan are on the way to the Circle as we speak.”  
Wynne nodded. “That makes sense.”  
I just gave her a befuddled look. “You knew, somehow. You knew he would do this, or something like it. How?”  
“I had a son once.” She admitted plainly. Whoa! Back up. Wait a minute…  
“You… had a son? But—”  
“I know. Such births are seldom, as there are ways to prevent it, but it does happen. And any child born to a Circle mage belongs to the Chantry. So, he was taken from me almost immediately. Still, as soon as I looked at him for those fleeting moments, I knew love—a love so pure and deep that nothing and no one could ever tear it asunder. Isolde had that love for her son, and despite all she’s done, I knew Connor harbored that love for her. I just did not know in what actions that love might manifest.”  
“Wynne I… I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on her shoulder in a feeble attempt to provide some comfort.  
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago. A very long time ago.”  
“Do you think about him?” I asked and immediately regretted it. This was one trip down memory lane I’m sure she would prefer to avoid at all costs. Good job, Scarlett. Your inquisitive nature has fucked things up yet again.  
“All the time.” Wynne admitted barely above a whisper, unshed tears sparkling in her china blue eyes. 

I brought her in for a tight hug. She returned it, and that’s when Eamon’s door opened.

“Whoa, am I interrupting something?” Alistair asked. 

Wynne immediately broke away from my embrace and blinked a few times to rid herself of those unshed tears. 

“Nothing at all. Just girl talk, you know.” The mage tried to give her most genuine smile.  
“…Riiiiiight. Well, if you need me, I’ll just be over here, getting in tune with my manly feelings—all one of them.” He smirked. Interesting. I thought for sure that conversation with Eamon would have soured his mood just as easily as it did mine, yet he spirits didn’t seem to dampen at all. Huh… 

“I know you wish to be on your way, but please help yourselves to any food and supplies you may need to get you through your journey to Orzammar. And please, allow me to thank you once more, Lady Cousland. Despite the circumstances, I… I recognize all you have done for Redcliffe. And I know I am in your debt.”  
“Thank you, my lord. For your hospitality and generosity. I hope we can continue to work together toward overcoming the darkspawn horde, defeating the Archdemon, and, ultimately, the betterment of this great nation.” Geez. Spend two days in the company of Redcliffe’s nobility and already I’m sounding like a politician.  
“You have my unyielding support. I swear it. Safe travels and the best of luck to you, Warden.” Eamon gave me a nod and left his study to go… somewhere. I don’t know. Do I look like a mind reader to you?

“I must thank you again as well. You gave us hope when there was none to be found, saved the lives of my nephew, my brother, and countless others. If ever you should call for aid, know that Redcliffe will always answer.” Teagan avowed before leaving to catch up with his brother. I guess they had a lot of preparations to take care of before this Landsmeet. Fine by me. I had enough on my plate already. 

“Wynne, would you please rally the others and procure whatever provisions we need?” I requested.  
“At once.” She gave me a nod and left to get the others. 

“Alistair, I don’t mean to pry, and I’m pretty sure I already know exactly what he said to you, but—”  
“But you’re just dying to know, aren’t you?” he smiled and shook his head. “I love that about you. That ravenous appetite for information… and other things.” His smile broadened into a cheeky grin.  
“Guilty.” I smiled back.  
“Would you believe he said he’s happy for me? For us?”  
“…What? I mean… no, to be perfectly honest. I don’t think I would believe that.”  
“Well, believe it or not, that’s what happened.”  
“You don’t have to lie to protect him, Alistair. I know he’s a good man with good intentions.”  
“I’m not, I swear! He told me the road ahead is not going to be easy or simple, but that he feels better knowing I have you to travel it with.”  
“… Interesting. He and I had a very different talk only a few moments ago.”  
“Well, I don’t know what was said, but I do know one thing for certain.”  
“What’s that?” I asked.  
“You can be very persuasive when you want to be.” He nudged my shoulder playfully with his. 

Wow. Today was just full of surprises.


	36. Two Can Play This Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett and her companions have officially arrived in Orzammar, only to be greeted by a city in a horrid state of political turmoil. What is a warden to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to Orzammar! I hope you enjoy it--this was always one of my favorite parts of DA:O. I hope it shows through in my writing. Thanks so much for your comments and kudos, everyone. You're all wonderful!

The journey to Orzammar was long and cold—in more ways than one. Leliana was doing everything in her power to avoid Zevran, which, in turn, did nothing for Zevran’s pride. Wynne’s thoughts were still lingering on her almost-forgotten past. Eamon’s talk with me was weighing on my mind, despite what he apparently told Alistair to the contrary. Although our quest was merely half over, everyone seemed to be devoid of their former ardor—our feet dragged, our shoulders sagged, and our weapons felt impossibly heavy. Redcliffe did nothing to reinvigorate our hope—our belief in the cause. Yes, we managed to save Eamon, but a little boy’s life was effectively ruined and a treacherous shrew was currently MIA. Our spirits dwindled more and more with each day that passed. Still, I was determined to press on. Someone had to be.

When we arrived, I had hoped for a warm welcome for a change. Was it really so much to ask? To be received like a guest instead of some damn nuisance? No such luck this time. All I got was snow down my boots and the shrill, grating sound of two men quarreling.

“Loghain will not suffer the delay of his appointed messenger!” The taller man insisted. Oh. One of Loghain’s men. This should end well.  
“Veata. This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings. I cannot allow entry at this time.” said the dwarven guard obstructing the entryway.  
“King Loghain demands the allegiance of the Deshyr... or lords or whatever you call them in your assembly. I am his appointed messenger.”  
“I don’t care if you’re the king’s wiper. Orzammar will have none but its own until the throne is settled.”

Well, now seems like as good a time as any to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, right?

“What is the meaning of this? Why have your people retreated?” I asked as evenly as I could—no need to add even more fire to an already heated situation.  
“They hide because they are dwarves.” Loghain’s messenger balked.  
“Our king is dead. He returned to the stone not three weeks ago. The assembly has gone through a dozen votes without agreeing on a successor. If it is not settled soon, we risk a civil war.” Of course their king died. Why should anything be easy?

“A Blight is coming. They must unite for Ferelden.” I explained evenly. No need to state the Grey Warden thing right away—not in the company of one of Loghain’s men. The last thing I needed was for this little bastard to run and tell the “king” what we were up to.

“Wait, who are you to speak for Ferelden? You’re no messenger to Loghain, that’s for certain.”  
“Thank the ancestors.” said the dwarf. I liked him already.  
“The Wardens need their traditional dwarven allies.” Alistair explained while handing the treaty over. Great. So much for not tipping our hand.

“The Wardens killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden. They’re sworn enemies of King Loghain!” the messenger decried.  
“Well, that is the royal seal. That means only the assembly is allowed to address it. Grey Warden, you may pass.” The dwarf acceded.  
“You’re letting in a traitor? And a foreigner?! In the name of King Loghain I demand you execute this… stain on the honor of Ferelden!”  
“Ah, there it is!” I exclaimed while I drew my sword. “I was so looking for literally any excuse to kill you. It’s about bloody time you gave me one.” I gave the messenger a smile that was anything but friendly. I don’t know what I looked like, but it must have been pretty intimidating. The little shitstain flinched.

“Kill each other as you will, but take your sodding fight off my doorstep!” the dwarf commanded.

The messenger ran down the stairs. I chased. And then I got bloody satisfaction. I know it’s supposedly wrong to find satisfaction in extinguishing someone’s life but honestly, when it was someone in the service of “King” Loghain or Rendon Howe, I was out of fucks to give. It felt good. It felt better than good. The rush of someone running toward you with their weapon drawn, the fear in your opponent’s eyes as they realize they’re outmatched, the resistance against my blade as I drove it home. I loved every minute of it.

When all was said and done, we went back up the steps to confer with the dwarven guard once more.

“You’ve done me a service. That fool Imrek was barking for a week. You are free to enter Orzammar, Grey Warden, though I don’t know what help you will find.” The dwarf warned as the huge stone doors began to open before us.

As we entered, we came upon a great hall adorned with enormous stone statues.

“How magnificent. These must be statues of the great dwarven paragons.” Wynne observed. Although just about everything we’d encountered so far seemed completely foreign to me, that term I knew from my studies back in Highever—paragons were the best of the dwarves; elevated to the rank of ancestor even while they still lived.  
“Imagine if all of these were Golems.” Shale added with delight. Come to think of it… I could see a certain commonality between the two. I knew dwarves were responsible for the creation of Golems but according to what I’d read, they’d stopped the practice centuries ago. And Shale, well, Shale was obviously a very special case.

“Do you remember where you came from, Shale? Before Honnleath, I mean?”  
“Ah, back to your incessant inquiries, eh Warden?”  
“Indulge me.”  
“I traveled with a mage. He did a lot of traveling, I remember that, but where we went… it is rather fuzzy. I remember great battles. Fighting many humans long ago. They were all very soft and squishy. And before that I… no, there are only images. I was somewhere dark.”  
“Do you know how Wilhelm acquired you?” I asked.  
“That part I know. He claimed to have found me in the Deep Roads. I was in the ruins of a thaig he said, deactivated with my control rod not far away.”  
“…Why was he in the Deep Roads? It’s my understanding it’s a rather… unsavory locale.”  
“It was a hobby of his—scavenging for magical treasure in places the dwarves had long forgotten.”  
“…But the Deep Roads are crawling with darkspawn. How did he—”  
“He had spells that allowed him to remain hidden and move quickly. But he had no defense against the Blight and worried constantly that he would get sick. If any darkspawn showed themselves, he fled.”  
“Why are you so suddenly so interested in the glorified statue’s past?” Alistair interrupted my exchange with the golem. “It hates birds, fantasizes about crushing our heads, and has an extensive vocabulary. What more do you need to know?” It was strange. He sounded annoyed and nervous at the same time. What brought this on?  
“Alistair, darling,” I began in a patronizing but saccharine tone, “If you’re going to be king, you need to learn to look at the bigger picture. I myself have never been to Orzammar, have you?”  
“Well, no, but I don’t see what that has to do with—”  
“Well, if Shale can recall anything from its past, we have just about the best guide we could hope for.”  
“…Oh.” Was all he said in reply.  
“Besides, I thought you found my curiosity endearing.” I gave him a sly smile. “What’s changed?”  
“N-nothing. Carry on.” He acquiesced. Very strange indeed. Oh well. I’d deal with it later. We had bigger problems.

“Did he say where in the Deep Roads he found you?” I turned my attention back to the stone creature.  
“No. That secretive bastard refused to tell me. I would ask and ask but noooo. He used to say that one day, if I were compliant and didn’t talk back at his wife, he would take me there and I could look around myself. Rotten lying bastard. If I had his head in my hands now, I would squeeze it like a giant lemon. Squish.”  
“Your use of onomatopoeia is always so effective.” I smirked.  
“It’s a gift. I don’t suppose, since we’re here, we might have time to look around down there…” Shale posed.  
“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Alistair shouted, hands in the air in vehement protest. “This isn’t just some pit stop we’re talking about. This is the Deep Roads. This is where our brothers and sisters go to die and for good reason—because it’s not a place you come back from. We should avoid it at all costs.”

I weighed his argument against Shale’s request for a moment, and came to the conclusion that I agreed with him. We had enough to contend with already—no need to seek out even more danger. We were just about full up already.

“I’m sorry Shale, but he’s right. We have a job to do and the Deep Roads promise to be more trouble than we’re prepared to handle. If you’d like to traverse them on your own I understand, but we could still really use your help.”  
The golem let out a heaving sigh. “I know. It's useless without me. I can always come back when this is all over, I suppose. It’s not like I won’t have time on my hands.”

I gave Shale my brightest smile and led onward.

As we opened the door to enter what I could only assume to be the Orzammar Commons, my jaw dropped. The place was positively immense. Rivers and pools of magma flowed through stone bridges and throughways, mercantile facades were carved right into the great stone walls that stretched on as far as they eye could see. Everything was shrouded in shades of orange and yellow and brown and red. I had never seen something so magnificent and grandiose in all my life. It was… humbling, to put it mildly, to be in the presence of such craftsmanship.

“WOW! So this is Orzammar. It’s huge!” Alistair observed in amazement.  
“It’s… big…” Leliana echoed.  
“For a tiny people, they certainly build high ceilings…” Wynne mused.

We couldn’t bask in our new surroundings for long. More fighting broke out. Oh goody.

“It is the Assembly who makes a king, and a king who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood.” One silver-haired dwarf insisted.  
“Or, as now, when someone tries using the Assembly to pull a coup. Who’s to say what my father said in his final hours, when the usurper Harrowmont was the only one by his side?” Another, younger dwarf countered.  
“I’ll have you thrown in prison!” silver-hair vowed.  
“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew!” cried the youngin’.  
“Handlers. Separate these Deshyrs into the Diamond Quarter. I will not have Bhelen incite a riot!” One of silver’s men ordered.  
Then one of youngin’s men came forward, sword drawn. “You will not speak that way about the man who should be king!”

And I kid you not, he straight up murdered the other man in cold blood right in front of everyone. And then both sides fled. I… I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t confront them. Not when I knew virtually nothing about their customs. Top priority was getting this treaty honored. The moral high ground would have to take a back seat for now.

The less-than-friendly dwarf who remained advised us to go to the Shaperate in the Diamond Quarter. “If you’re going to be our Warden, you should at least know us,” he said. I couldn’t have agreed more. No way was I going to attempt to quell political turmoil in a land I was all but completely clueless about. Scarlett, time to get you some good old-fashioned book learnin’.

“Oh good, they have a library. Everyone say farewell to our beloved Warden—we are not likely to see her again for several days.” Morrigan mused.

…

Alright, here we go. After sitting in the Shaperate for quite some time and brushing up on my dwarven history, I learned this is what we were dealing with, in a nutshell:

After the death of King Endrin Aeducan, Prince Bhelen (the youngin’ I saw earlier) figured he’d be elected to the throne once his father and brothers were out of the picture. However, Lord Harrowmont (silver-hair), claims he promised King Endrin on his deathbed that Bhelen would not succeed him, and has put himself up as another option to rule. Their dispute has left the assembly at a complete stalemate, with no one running the city. Since neither can gain the upper hand, the assembly has closed Orzammar off from the surface, much to the dismay of the dwarves and merchants living here.

After speaking to some of the locals to gain additional insight, I came to learn the following:

Bhelen is a total dick, but a progressive one. He realizes the caste system is broken (that system being that you’re born to a certain station in life—a station you can never rise above nor escape from) and wants to make it so the casteless can fight in the dwarven army—a point of view that could prove to be invaluable for the battle against the Blight. He also wants to encourage and strengthen trade ties with the surface. And he’s shrewd enough to actually follow through and get this shit done. Oh, and he may or may not have murdered his brother and father so he could assume the throne. So, there’s that.

Harrowmont seems to be an honorable man, but he also seems resistant to change—something that Orzammar is apparently in dire need of. He’s a traditionalist and an isolationist. I’ve never delved all that deeply into studying politics, but from what I understand, neither of those perspectives can last very long—not without dire consequences. Still, there is something to be said for electing a man of integrity. A man of justice.

Aaaaand now I get why the assembly is in gridlock. Super.

There had to be something I was missing. Some minor detail that could definitively prove one is the superior choice over the other. After talking to the locals I returned to the Shaperate, determined to go over the volumes with a fine-tooth comb and find that missing piece.

“Maker’s breath, I do love it when you don those spectacles of yours.” Alistair smirked as he walked toward me.  
“There has to be some detail I glossed over. Some indication or sign that will undeniably declare which one of those men is the right choice. There has to be something here!” I insisted as I frantically ran my eyes over the rows and rows of seemingly endless text splattered across the withered pages in my lap.

“You’ve been at this for hours, my love. I’m not sure the answer to this particular problem can be found in a book.” He explained gently.  
“What am I to do then? Where am I to look?” I asked in frustration.  
He took my hands in his, likely in an attempt to calm me down. “You know I’m not well-versed in all this—politics, succession, whatever. But it seems to me that sometimes there likely is no one right answer. You always tell me to stop seeing things in black and white. Why not take some of your own advice for once, hmm?” He squeezed my hands and gave me a wink.  
“So, what, I should just resign myself to the fact that there’s no solution and walk away?” I asked bitterly.  
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Look, there are two men vying for the crown, right? Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you should try talking to them and listening to what they have to say? I think you’re far more likely to find what you’re looking for that way than with your nose stuck between those pages.”

I let out a heavy sigh. I hated it when he was right. So annoying. Alright, I confess. I was not looking forward to speaking with either of those men. I’d even go so far as to say I’d been avoiding it. I already felt like I was in way over my head with all this, and one-on-one interaction with either of them was bound to bury me even deeper.

“But I like books. Books aren’t complicated. And they don’t murder you when you disagree with them.”  
Alistair let out a slight chuckle. “No one is going to murder you. Not while I’m around. I promise.” He got up from his seat and pulled me up with him. “Now, who should we visit first?”

I really had no inclination one way or another. Welp, let’s do this the old-fashioned way. I rummaged around in my pack for a coin and held it up for him to see.

“Call it.” I ordered.  
“Heads for Harrowmont?” he asked. I nodded. I flicked my thumb under the coin so it flipped several times in the air. I caught it and slammed the coin down against the back of my hand.

“Oh come on. Don’t leave me in suspense here!” Alistair whined.

I slowly lifted my hand to see how it landed. I don’t even know why. It wasn’t like one outcome was going to be better or worse than the other. Both were sure to suck pretty hard.

“Bhelen first.” I admitted unenthusiastically.  
“Great! See how easy that was? Maybe this whole being king thing won’t be so bad after all, what with such foolproof decision-making tactics.” He grinned. I just rolled my eyes before I noticed Leliana heading our way.

“Scarlett, a word.” Leliana pulled at my arm. Oh boy, this seemed serious.  
“Yes?”  
“Do you intend to speak to the contenders for the throne?” she asked.  
“I do, yes. Probably the only way to really get a sense of who they are and what we’re dealing with, right?”  
“All of this… it’s complicated, I know. There is often more than one path to victory. Both of those men may be fit to rule this land. That is not what you should be concerned with.”  
“Speak plainly, Leliana.” I ordered. Usually I loved riddles but today was not that day.  
“You are smart. We both know that. But to truly master the game, you have to be more than that. You have to be… devious, at times.”  
“You’re suggesting I lie.”  
“Yes, to put it bluntly. Lie until you’re blue in the face. Play both sides. Use whatever means necessary to get the outcome you desire. Show no mercy, for you will find none. That is the nature of the game. And I do believe that you’re about to get your first taste of it down here.”  
“Just when I thought this day couldn’t possibly get any better...” I sighed. “Let’s go.”

…

We were advised to seek out Bhelen in the chamber of the assembly, so to the assembly hall we went. Much to my disappointment, however, he didn’t seem to be there—only a dwarf with black hair and a short beard received us.

“Warden, welcome. It is always a blessing for Orzammar to host your order. I am Vartag Gavorn, top advisor to our good Prince Bhelen. What news do you bring?”

Huh… there was that warm welcome I’d been looking for. Two points for Bhelen.

“I need aid against an upcoming Blight. Might I speak with Bhelen?”  
“You must understand, Harrowmont hides behind his good reputation while sending spies and assassins. Bhelen can’t know who to trust.”  
“What must I do to prove my intentions?” I asked.  
“Harrowmont has engaged in a campaign of bribery and coercion to ensure that every house serves him. But if a neutral party, a stranger, were to approach certain key members, perhaps with irrefutable evidence of Harrowmont’s deception…”  
“Irrefutable evidence? Which I suppose you have…” Wynne inferred suspiciously.  
“I am certain my lord prince would show his gratitude.” The dwarf explained as he handed me promissory notes—the irrefutable evidence he had mentioned.

Apparently, Harrowmont had promised two nobles the same land and was intending to welch on the deal once he was crowned. I didn’t like it. Something seemed off. I told the dwarf I’d consider his task and that warm welcome got icy really fast.

“To Harrowmont?” Alistair asked.  
“To the Shaperate first.”  
“…Again?” he asked.  
“Curse that dwarf who told you where to find that library.” Morrigan groaned.  
“I’ll be quick this time! I swear.”

I showed the documents to the Shaper of Memories and he seemed to have serious doubts about their authenticity. Shit. I rescind those points I gave Bhelen earlier. Something about him just seems so… slimy. Still, as Leliana so aptly pointed out, this is how the game is played. It’s dirty and underhanded and cruel, but winning… that’s the only thing that matters. And say what you will about Bhelen, I could see he was definitely in it to win it.

“So, are we siding with Harrowmont, then?” Alistair asked.  
“Not necessarily. Just because Bhelen might be guilty of fraud doesn’t mean Harrowmont is innocent.”  
“Very good, Scarlett.” Leliana smirked. “You’re taking to the game like a duck to water.”  
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing…” I admitted.  
She just shrugged. “Take it as you will.”

To find Harrowmont’s man, we were directed toward a place called “Tapster’s Tavern.” I liked the name, at least. So sturdy. So straightforward. None of this “Gnawed Noble” or “Spoiled Princess” nonsense.

And then, as we opened the doors to go inside, my favorable impression soon waned.

“What is that smell? Dwarven vomit? Charming.” Alistair posed.  
“Watch out for that puddle of… whatever it is…” Leliana warned.  
“Oh wonderful, a dwarven tavern. I’ve always wanted to try some of their ale. I hear it’s quite potent.” Wynne admitted excitedly.  
“How can you possibly think of eating or drinking anything in a place like this?” Alistair asked.

I couldn’t blame him. The place was, in a word, disgusting. My boots came in contact with something new and sticky with every step; the patrons wreaked of urine and bile and sweat mixed with the warm, stale, sour smell of whatever it was they used for brewing; most of the tables were really tables in name only—they’d clearly suffered the repeated blows of arm wrestling, tavern brawling, and, I shudder to even think of it but, love making. Suffice it to say, every stick of furniture in the place was in a considerable state of disrepair. And yet, it was completely wall-to-wall packed. There was barely any room to breathe, let alone walk around. And the noise. Ugh. The noise. Drunken singing—errr, it wasn’t really even that—drunken warbling would probably be more apt, grunting, gulping, screaming, growling, it was all polluting the air, making me wince. Have I ever mentioned I’m a tad agoraphobic?

“I tried a thimble of dwarven ale. Woke up a week later in Jader wearing nothing but my shoes and a towel.” Leliana chuckled to herself. Hey, a laugh for the first time in days! Progress!  
“Sounds like there’s a story there…” I smirked.  
“I’m sure there is, but damn if I remember it.” Her laughter quelled to a wide smile.  
“I tried dwarven ale once. I thought it was just something they tricked surfacers into drinking, as a joke.” Alistair confessed.  
“Well geez, with a glowing endorsement like that, I have to try it.” I grinned.  
“No, you really don’t want to. Trust me.” Alistair warned.  
“Oh, it’s so happening. But not now. We have a job to do. Let’s find this guy.” I suggested.

Before I could get very far, I was stopped by an armored dwarf with dark brown hair.

“Afternoon, stranger. You looking for a stool to share a brew?” He asked flirtatiously. I had to give credit where it’s due. A lesser man would probably be intimidated by a woman who was almost twice his height. Not this one, apparently.

“And who might you be?” I asked as I saw Alistair worm his way through the crowd to get closer to me. He gave the dwarf a nasty glare and put his arm around me. Ah, there’s that jealous streak I’d come to know and love. I reached up and gave his hand a squeeze to reassure him.

“Name’s Nevin. I fight with Prince Bhelen’s expeditionary field unit. You?”  
“I’m Scarlett, a Grey Warden.” I offered him the hand Alistair wasn’t holding for a shake. He took it. Say what you will about Orzammar—most of the people were pretty damn friendly. And not in that fake, I-want-something-from-you way. They just seemed like good people—real salt of the earth types. It was quite refreshing.

“I figured as much. Good folks, Wardens. I was in the Deep Roads when that one came by… What was his name? Doocan? Dunca… something like that.”  
“You knew Duncan?” Alistair asked, beyond surprised.  
“I met him, sure. Good man. Solid. He knows what we go through in the Deep Roads. Not many do. Not even the ones who live this close. You have to be on the front lines.”

The glare ran away from Alistair’s face. Nevin had clearly scored some points with him by speaking fondly of Duncan. I guess my love was right—the Blight really does bring people together.

“I haven’t been down there yet.” I admitted shyly. Some Grey Warden I was.  
“Probably a good thing. It’s getting crowded. Lots of people interested all of a sudden. Bhelen has ordered us to go back tomorrow. Harrowmont has his own men going, too. All in search of Branka.”  
“The paragon?” I asked. Look at me, putting that knowledge gained from studying in the Shaperate to good use. Suck on that, Morrigan!

“Yep. She’s our best bet to put all this political bullshit to bed. Went missing about two years ago in the Deep Roads. No way she could’ve survived. We’re putting our lives on the line to find a corpse. Excuse me, this brew is starting to taste awful bitter.” And with that, he walked away from us.

We fought our way through the crowd to make our way to the back of the establishment. It was there we came upon a ginger dwarf with a braided beard who was slightly better dressed than the rest of the rabble. I inferred this was our man.

“You speak for Lord Harrowmont?” I inquired loudly.  
“I heard there was a Grey Warden here. I am Dulin Forender, second to Lord Harrowmont, King Endrin’s own choice as successor.”  
“Let me guess… you won’t let me speak to Harrowmont directly.”  
“He cannot afford to trust anyone of unproven loyalties.”  
“And how might I prove myself?” Was anyone else experiencing Déjà vu?  
“That’s a generous offer. If you mean it, you might attend the Proving today. The Deshyrs take it very seriously, and unfortunately, Bhelen found some way to blackmail or intimidate House Harrowmont’s best fighters into stepping down.”  
“…So you’d like me to fight in Harrowmont’s name?” I asked.  
“It would certainly make your loyalties loud and clear.”

Zevran, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout this whole ordeal, decided now was the time to make his presence known. I swear, that elf has the worst sense of timing…

“Hahaha and this is to be your king? One who cannot keep his own men from running like frightened children?” Damn. That was harsh, even for him. Leliana’s rejection really must have taken a toll. Keep it together, Zev. You’re not helping.

“Lord Harrowmont does not use threats or intimidation to motivate his men. He leads by example.”  
“Ah, I see. So it’s his example they follow as they cower from this Prince Bhelen?” He asked.

Ugh. Not good. Still, he raises a good point. A king needs to do more than lead by example. He needs to take the bull by the horns. He needs to be strong. The fact that he could not inspire the unyielding loyalty of two men did not bode well for retaining the loyalty of all of Orzammar.

“How dare you slander Lord Harrowmont!” the dwarf chided.  
“Enough!” I shouted. “Give me a moment to confer with my… esteemed colleagues, would you?”

Dulin gave me a nasty look, but ultimately assented. “I need to refresh my drink. I trust you’ll have an answer upon my return.”

“So my options are to possibly frame Harrowmont with documents that may or may not be forgeries or fight Orzammar’s greatest warriors one after another until I collapse from exhaustion or meet an even worse fate. Is that an accurate description of our current situation?” I asked anyone who was willing to chime in.

“That… would appear to be correct. Quite the pickle we’re in.” was all Wynne could offer.  
“I care not about whom we side with and neither should you. Chances are your contract will be honored either way, when all is said and done. Stop jumping through these ridiculous hoops. Make haste and be done with it.” suggested Morrigan, ever the pragmatist. I didn’t even bother explaining things weren’t that simple. There was no point. It would fall on deaf ears.  
“You’re not seriously considering fighting in that… thing… are you?” Alistair asked, clearly worried I couldn’t hold my own.  
“I’m sorry, have I given you the impression I can’t handle a sword somewhere along the line?” I asked defiantly. That shut him up effectively. For the moment, anyway.  
“This Proving would appear the be the only way to proceed with honor. Meet your enemy on the battlefield. These empty promises of land and titles are meaningless.” Sten threw in his two cents.  
“Harrowmont is a coward.” Zevran asserted. “The choice, to me, is clear. Fighting in his name is unworthy of you, my bespectacled valkyrie.” Ugh, I’d apparently forgotten to remove my glasses. Awesome.  
“Harrowmont’s leadership style does leave something to be desired, I’ll grant you. But I have no reason to believe he really did what Bhelen is accusing him of.” I explained.  
“Scarlett, if I may,” Leliana began, “Fighting in this Proving does not mean you have sworn allegiance to either side.”  
“Making a public declaration for one candidate and fighting several opponents in his name seems pretty cut and dry to me, Leliana.” I retorted.  
“Not necessarily. There are always different ways to spin things, Scarlett. You of all people should know the power of words. Actions do not always speak louder.” She smirked.  
“Scarlett, listen. I’m not saying you can’t fight. We all know you’re quite good at it. But this is something else. This isn’t bandits or darkspawn. This is a cadre of trained warriors. Who knows what they’re capable of? Plus, they have the advantage of having done this before, Maker knows how many times. Please. Don’t do this.” Alistair’s eyes grew wide with sincerity; his voice barely audible above the murmurs of the bar patrons.

Damn that wounded puppy look. Gets me every time. Oh sod it. I pulled him in for a kiss. Yes, in front of the entire sodding tavern. What of it?!

“I hear you, my love, and I appreciate your concern.” I began as softly as I could while still being heard. “But if the choice is between honest, hand-to-hand combat or entrapping a possibly innocent man, my conscience is forcing me to choose the former. Surely you can understand that.”

He hung his head in defeat but didn’t utter another word of protest. That’s when Dulin made his way back to us.

“Well?” the dwarf asked.  
“Welp, it would seem you have yourself a champion.”  
Dulin smiled from ear to ear. “Wonderful! Harrowmont will be overjoyed.”  
“A spectacle where squishy flesh creatures beat each other to a pulp? Oh, I do hope we can find good seats.” Shale exclaimed with unfettered delight.  
“Barkeep!” I shouted. “I do believe I’ll have that drink now.”


	37. Proving a Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rather than use falsified evidence to promote Bhelen, Scarlett opts to fight for Harrowmont in the Proving, but is rife with self-doubt about her chances against such accomplished warriors. When Alistair also vocalizes his doubts, however, Scarlett does everything within her power to prove him wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! Sorry it's been awhile. I've been quite busy. I hope you enjoy this chapter and comments and kudos are the best present I could possibly ask Santa for. ;)

Dwarven ale… how exactly does one describe dwarven ale? Have you ever been kicked in the stomach and then accidentally eaten some dirt once you hit the ground? It’s sort of like that, only in reverse order. One sip and it took all I had not to immediately spit it back out. I was guessing the tavern patrons wouldn’t take too kindly to an outsider spewing their beloved beverage of choice all over the floor, so I held my breath and swallowed as quickly as possible. 

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” Alistair smirked as he crossed his arms, so very pleased with himself. Grrrr. Now I almost wanted to finish it just to wipe that smirk off his face.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think it’s great. I’d finish it if I didn’t need to be sober for the fight.” I countered smugly.  
He let out a slight chuckle. “Always so stubborn. I saw that scowl on your face when you tasted it. You’re not fooling anyone.” 

I looked him dead in the eyes as I brought the stein back up to my mouth and gulped some more of the vile drink down. Ha! That’ll show him! I really shouldn’t have drunk any more, though. They weren’t lying when they said this stuff is potent. Aaaaand now the room was slightly spinning and I had a wicked case of the hiccups. Great job, Scarlett. You’re about to fight dwarven warriors of unrivaled renown and you’re knackered. This will turn out well. 

Dulin grabbed the brew out of my hands. Bless that dwarf. “Forgive me, but we need you clear-headed. You should head to the Proving Grounds as soon as possible so you can be added to the roster.” 

I gave him a nod and moved to stand up, only to immediately find myself sitting back down. Oops. 

“Oh, this bodes well. Just how do you expect to defeat the other competitors if you cannot even stand, much less wield a sword?” Morrigan posed. Aww, she was worried. So sweet.  
“Haven’t you ever heard of liquid courage?” I asked wryly as another hiccup escaped my mouth. She just rolled her eyes and helped me to my feet. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, Morrigan has a point. It’s not too late. You can still back out of this thing.” Alistair chimed in.  
“Aww baby, darlin’, puddin’ pie,” I began as I grabbed his face in my hands and feigned a pout. “Don’t you worry about lil ole’ me. I’ll be just fine.” Another hiccup escaped my mouth before I pulled his face in for a quick kiss to reassure him. He let out a defeated sigh when the kiss broke, but didn’t utter another word of protest. Those pet names work wonders, I’m tellin’ ya. 

Once I fully reacclimated myself to the concept of gravity, we left the tavern and made our way across a wide bridge right in the center of Orzammar Commons. I happily led the way, hiccups gone, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about the fight to come. There was even something of a spring in my step and a little more wiggle in my walk than usual. Never underestimate the power of a stiff drink, my friends. 

“Why are you smiling like that? You look suspiciously like the cat who swallowed the pigeon.” Alistair asked Wynne, apparently from only a few paces behind me. I could hear them clear as a bell.  
“Canary.” Wynne corrected him.  
“What?”  
“I look like the cat who swallowed the canary.”  
“I once had a very large cat, but that’s not my point. My point is why are you smirking?” Alistair asked again.  
Wynne chuckled. “You were watching her. With great interest, I might add. In fact, I believe you were... enraptured.”  
“She’s our leader. I look to her for guidance.” Alistair explained.  
“Oh, I see. So, what guidance did you find in those swaying hips, hmm?” I bit my lips closed to keep from giggling as I felt that familiar blush paint my cheeks. Ugh. Not again.  
“No no, I wasn’t looking at... you know, her... hind-quarters.”  
“Certainly.”  
“I gazed... glanced, in that direction, maybe, but I wasn’t staring... or really seeing anything even.” I bit my lips harder. The more he grasped at straws, the funnier it became.  
“Of course.”  
“I hate you. You’re a bad person.” Alistair hurled bitterly. I didn’t even have to look back to know he was pouting. Wynne just chuckled some more. Ah well, it’s always nice to feel wanted. 

I turned around and moved to whisper in his ear teasingly, “Was there… any truth to that?”  
“What? That? Oh. No. Definitely not.”  
“…Not even a little bit?” I whispered in my deepest, most sultry tone.  
“…Well. I… uh…” He turned bright red from his neck all the way up to his ears.  
I grinned widely and gave his ear a quick nibble and somehow he managed to blush even brighter.  
“Mmm…” he began closing his eyes to fully enjoy the feel of my lips against his skin before reality set back in. “Oh for the love of… NOT. HERE.” He insisted firmly.  
I just giggled, shook my head, and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”  
“Alright you two, save it. We have work to do.” Wynne interrupted before Alistair could reply by opening the doors before us. Damn. I could hardly help myself. It was incredibly fun making him blush for a change instead of it being the other way around. Not to mention the remaining effects of the ale were making me feel extra playful. Less inhibited. Still, she had a point. Enough messing about. Get to work, Scarlett. 

As we walked through the entranceway that led to the Proving Grounds, my gaze fell to a lone dwarf whose eyes were sparkling with anticipation standing right in the middle of the cavernous vestibule. I drew closer to hopefully get some more information about this whole business, but he immediately started talking at me once I was close enough to hear. 

“Watch for Piotin Aeducan! He’s won the squad combat four years running. He has eleven decapitations so far—he needs just three more for the one-season record.” Oh, how charming. Talk about a buzzkill. Nothing quite like picturing eleven heads being severed from their bodies to sober you up in a hurry.  
“I take it you’re a fan of these proceedings. Tell me, are these matches always to the death?” I asked cautiously.  
“Not always but, usually. It’s just easier that way. Fewer disputes.”  
“Oh, well that’s reassuring.” Alistair asserted. I just gave him a quick glare and kept on with my questions.  
“Can you tell me anything about the rules?”  
“They change from round to round. Sometimes it’s bare hands, sometimes weapons, sometimes pairs or squads. It’s announced when the fight begins. That’s about all the warning anyone gets.”  
“Right. Well, thanks for your time.” I gave him a nod and felt the color draining from my face. Ugh. Fighting trained warriors to the death in front of a mob of spectators for their own entertainment so wasn’t part of my skill set. This wasn’t like killing darkspawn or bandits or demons. This was unlike anything I’d faced before, and to be completely honest, I was having some serious doubts at this point. Maybe this was it. Maybe I’d finally bitten off more than I could chew. Maybe—

“You’re not ready for this.” Alistair said plainly as he forcefully grabbed my shoulder, completely derailing my train of thought.  
His words felt like a hard slap to the face. “…Excuse me?” I replied defensively as soon as they truly sunk in.  
“Oh come on, Scarlett. I know you. You research and you plan and then you execute. Thinking on your feet is not your strongest suit. Those dwarves are going to pulverize you. And you know it.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The one time I needed him to be my rock, to support me, and he was making me doubt myself even more. This was the last thing I needed. 

“Come now, Alistair. Scarlett has been quite adept at rolling with the punches, so to speak. You do not give her enough credit.” Wynne stuck up for me.  
“That’s with the rest of us there picking up the slack. She freezes for a few moments when each fight begins to gather her thoughts—to make a plan. Or have you not noticed?” He paused for a response, but none came. “A few seconds is all they’re going to need to take her head off.” He retorted. Okay, now I was beginning to get pissed. Before I could open my mouth to chide him, he took things even further. “I should be the one doing this. You’re a woman. I’m a man. I’m the most accomplished warrior among us. And I don’t say that to brag—it’s just a fact.”  
“A fact?!” I spat the word at him. “A fact is something that cannot be disputed. Something that is ironclad. Foolproof. I’ve handled whatever has come our way just as well as you have. Sometimes better, even.”  
“Oh? Tell that to Flemeth. Or those bandits we faced who almost slit you from naval to nose. Or that wolf who almost ate you alive. Or that laundry lass with the pitchfork back in Haven. This isn’t the time for foolish pride, Scarlett. You go out there, you’re going to lose. I’m our best option.”  
“What in the Maker’s name has gotten into you?! You who never steps up. You who always dwells blissfully in the background. You who is terrified of taking the lead on anything. YOU of all people want to do this?!” I was shouting now. I could feel the eyes of every stranger in the room lingering on us. I didn’t care. I was focused on nothing but my flaring anger. 

“If the choice is between taking the lead for once so you can live another day or doing nothing and letting you die, then yes, I choose the scenario where you live.”  
“Well guess what. This being a leader thing? It’s not something you get to cherry-pick, Alistair. It’s all or nothing.”  
“But—”  
“Let me tell you how this is going to go.” I pushed my pointed index finger into his chest hard and looked him dead in the eyes so he could see how serious I was. “I’m going to go in there, and I am going to hit every fucking curve they throw at me. I am going to give those dwarves a show like they’ve never before seen. And then when I’ve done all that—when they have their brand-spanking-new Grey Warden champion—I am going to meet you in that arena and we are going to settle the question of who is better once and for all.” 

I was seeing red. I was totally seething. Alistair had a special knack for pushing a lot of my buttons—and not always in the fun, titillating kind of way. 

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You’re saying you’re not only going to fight your way through all the other contenders—dwarves who are classically trained in the art of combat, dwarves who do not stop until their opponent’s heart stops beating—but you also want to fight… me?”  
“Damn right.” I spat the response back at him.  
“Ooooh what fun! I do hope they let us watch.” Zevran grinned wickedly.  
“Not helpful, Zevran.” Leliana hissed.  
“You’re delusional. I won’t do it.” Alistair crossed his arms in a huff.  
“Oh, you’ll do it. Even if I have to drag you in there myself, you’ll do it.” I glared into his eyes, the anger radiating off every inch of my body. “Now, we’ve wasted enough time. Let’s do this.” 

I sought out those two warriors who’d dropped out of the fight. One was being blackmailed—a situation easily remedied by stealthily pilfering the evidence (thanks, Leliana). The other just needed a little pep talk sprinkled with a couple well-placed… lies is such a harsh word. Let’s call them “untruths”. I likely wouldn’t need their help, but you know me, I like to be prepared. 

I ran into some of my opponents as I wandered around the grounds. Most of them seemed like your average warriors or rogues—well, if you don’t consider their below-average height, that is. One dwarf I ran into was particularly inspiring. Her name was Hanashan, and she was a member of the “silent sisters”—an order of mute female warriors founded by an ancient paragon who first fought for women’s right to be soldiers. The story really touched me. It filled me with a renewed sense of pride in being a female warrior myself—something I desperately needed to hear now thanks to you-know-who. Gah, that boy could drive me up a wall! Oh, and for whatever it’s worth, the silent sisters supported Bhelen; no doubt a rather large coup for the young prince.

After walking around and getting a better sense of who I was likely to face, I found the Proving Master. 

“The Proving will begin shortly. I’m sure you can find a place in the stands.” He said.  
“Actually, I’m here to compete.” I asserted.  
“…You? Really?”  
“What shocks you so, sir? That I am not a dwarf or that I am a woman?”  
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. We have many women participate in the fight. But you are a Grey Warden, are you not?”  
“I am indeed.” I admitted with my newfound sense of pride. Then I looked at Leliana for affirmation before I said more. She gave me a slight nod. “I intend to fight as Harrowmont’s champion.”  
“Well, that’s a surprise. Most have cast their support for Bhelen.” Interesting. “And I am doubly surprised a Grey Warden would take an interest in dwarven politics.”  
“Oh, I’m full of surprises. Just you watch.” I glared at Alistair who shyly broke my gaze almost immediately.  
“Right, well, let’s just get you into the schedule here… Is there a particular name you wish listed?”  
“Just Grey Warden will suffice.” I offered plainly. This wasn’t about Scarlett Cousland’s own honor or glory. This was about something more. This was for all the little girls who were told they couldn’t hold a sword and had to learn to cook or crochet instead. This was for all the women who had been told they were too weak, too frail, too fragile to fight for what they believed in. Sure, I was saying this was for Harrowmont, but in my heart, it was about something else entirely. Tonight, I would prove I’m every inch as good as any other warrior who ever set foot on that battlefield or any other. Tonight, I would show all of Orzammar what a woman can accomplish when she ignores what men tell her she can’t. 

“Very well. We actually have an opening in the first round. Are you ready to start?”  
“I was born ready.” I vowed with newfound determination.  
The dwarf let out a slight chuckle. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

… 

The fighting grounds were enormous, just as everything in Orzammar appeared to be. That is, everything but its inhabitants. There were torches surrounding the circular perimeter. Every single seat was filled with enthusiastic onlookers, the twinkle of bloodlust shining in their voracious eyes. 

“This is it. Are you ready?” Leliana asked me.  
I stretched my arms and hamstrings a bit in an attempt to limber myself up. Then I rolled my shoulders.  
“No, no no. You do it all wrong. You are not going to maximize your reach or your flexibility if you warm up like that,” Zevran began. “Please, allow me.” 

Now, this would normally be the part where I’d turn Zevran’s offer down flat, but you know what? A) Today of all days I was not about to turn down help, and B) I was still pissed at Alistair and this would surely make him jealous. Yeah, I admit maybe it was a little bit petty. I’m only human. 

“Dazzle me, Zevran.” I smirked. 

His and Alistair’s eyes both grew wide with surprise. 

“…Really?” He asked. 

“Yes. According to Alistair, I need all the help I can get. I’m only a woman, after all.” I glared in Alistair’s direction as Zevran moved behind me. He lathered his hands in some oil he apparently carried on his belt (only Zevran. Oy.) and reached up to rub my shoulders and neck—both of which he had a bit of a hard time reaching. And as much as I hated to admit it, he knew what he was doing. It felt good. It felt better than good, if I’m being completely honest. And seeing the look in Alistair’s covetous eyes as he watched another man sensually touch me… priceless. 

“They are going to begin without you if you do not head out soon.” Leliana warned. Hmm… I may have detected a note of jealousy from her as well. She’d done nothing but practically ignore Zev’s existence since the “incident” back at Redcliffe. Perhaps she was feeling more for the elf than she’d let on. 

I rolled my shoulders and my head as a cue for Zev to stop. “Thanks, Zev.” I smiled.  
He gave me a wide, playful grin back. “My pleasure.”

I took a deep breath and began walking toward the open arena. 

“Scarlett.” Alistair called. I turned around to face him.  
“Alistair.” I answered coldly.  
“This is your last chance. You know I’m right. Don’t do this.” 

Funny, I thought he might want to bury the hatchet before I went out there but obviously he had no interest in that. No reconciliation came. No “best of luck.” No “I know you can do this.” Not even an “I love you.” Unbelievable. 

I just scoffed. “Proving you wrong will never be sweeter than it will be tonight.” 

With each step I took I could feel my heart pounding louder and louder, apparently trying desperately to break free from the confines of my chest. But whenever I felt like the fight looming ahead was too much to handle, all I had to do was look back at him. Him with his immature scowl, his defiant crossed arms, his unabashed hubris, his certainty that I would fail. And it lit a fire inside me once more—a fire that wouldn’t be extinguished until all of my opponents were lying on the ground before me. 

“This is a Glory Proving. Fought under the eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar to honor the memory of King Endrin,” shouted the Proving Master. And the crowd went fucking wild as my first opponent made his way into the ring to face me. 

“First up is Seweryn of the warrior caste. Many of you remember when he made history as a lad of twelve by defeating his own father in this very ring.” And the crowd roared even louder. “Today, he fights as a champion for Prince Bhelen. Opposing him in Lord Harrowmont’s name is a member of the famed Grey Wardens.” And the crowd cheered again, but it was diminished. Despite Harrowmont’s sterling reputation, it would seem Bhelen was held in higher esteem by the masses. Very interesting indeed. 

“The first warrior to fall is vanquished. FIGHT!” the Master ordered. 

And fight we did. Well, sort of. He drew his ax as I drew my sword. Instead of coming right for me, however, he decided to give the audience a little show, twirling the ax and making some kind of whistling sound as it whirred through the air. Big mistake. I dropped down and swept his legs while he was distracted. As he fell to the ground, I sunk my sword into his thigh. 

“Yield! I yield!” the dwarf cried in pain. Hooray! If all my fights were like that, this was going to be a cake walk! 

…They weren’t all like that. 

Next up were the twins—Myaja and Lucjan. Now, I’m not going to pretend my height didn’t give me a slight advantage, but since when does one Grey Warden equal two warrior-caste dwarves in a fight that’s supposed to be “fair”? If you ask me, this round was bullshit. But, the show must go on, as they say. 

Those little fuckers began circling me like sharks. And it made me increasingly uneasy. Anticipating the moves of one opponent is one thing—generally I’m pretty good at that. Two… two is something else. It was almost as though they both had this secret unspoken language that they used to communicate before each strike. And the strikes were beginning to add up. Just little slices of exposed flesh here and there, moving so fast and so low I barely noticed they were happening until it was too late. It might not sound like much, but a slow death by 1,000 cuts is probably worse than bleeding out quickly from one large one. They were smarter than their predecessor. They didn’t give a damn about pleasing the crowd—they only gave a damn about bringing me down, no matter how long it took. 

Think, Scarlett. Think. 

I had to separate them. But how to do that? I literally had nothing on me I could use as a distraction—the Proving Master saw to that. Wait… Of course! My secret weapon. My ace in the hole. Words.

“You were right when I spoke with you earlier, Myaja. Your brother doesn’t hold a candle to you.”  
“…What did you say?” Lucjan questioned defensively.  
“When we were talking before the fight, Myaja informed me that she was the superior fighter. I thought she was just gloating, but now I see exactly what she was talking about firsthand. She’s thinking of going solo, apparently. What was the term she used? ‘Dead weight,’ I think it was.” I explained casually.  
“You said what?!” Lucjan cried, clearly losing his concentration.  
“I didn’t say anything! She’s a liar!” Myaja shouted. But the seed of doubt had been planted. And that was all I needed.  
“But you think it, don’t you? You think you’re better than me!”  
“Oh Lucjan, really. You’re being ridiculous. Are you so stupid you can’t see she’s playing you?” Myaja asked condescendingly.  
“Oh, I’m stupid now, am I?! You’ve always thought you’re better than me! Just because mother likes you best!” 

At this point I took it upon myself to just step aside and let things escalate. And escalate they did. I just stood there, bleeding from my tiny incisions, watching them get more and more angry until they were doing my job for me. Insults and blades were flying as they struck each other over and over and over. Ahh, there’s nothing quite like old-fashioned sibling rivalry. 

When Myaja had taken her brother out, I stepped back up and finished her off. Lucjan had worn her out and with her thoughts lingering on her dispute with her beloved twin, she wasn’t focused on beating me anymore. She wasn’t really focused on anything. 

“Do you see what you’ve done?!” she shouted. “You made me hurt him!”  
“I didn’t make you do anything. You chose to hurt him. And right now…” I began as I parried her little sword so hard it flew from her hand and pointed the tip of mine right at her throat, “you’re going to choose to yield.” 

She gulped audibly and gave a slow nod. Once the Proving Master announced the fight was mine, I let her go to tend to her brother and the damage she’d caused. As for me, I needed to see Wynne. The cuts were nothing major but if left untreated they’d get infected. That could get ugly. 

“I think it’s going quite well, don’t you? How are you feeling?” Wynne asked pleasantly as she cleaned my wounds.  
“So far so good, I guess. How many more bouts until I win this damn thing?”  
“Three, I believe.”  
“Ugh, you mean I’m not even halfway done?” I whined.  
“The worst is yet to come.” Alistair warned as he strolled up to me.  
“Boy, you’re just a cornucopia of sunshine and roses today, you know that?” I rolled my eyes.  
“Second round and already you’ve been cut to ribbons. How in the Maker’s name do you intend to go three more? You don’t have to finish this. You can still walk away with your life.” 

Cut to ribbons?! They’d barely scratched me! GRRRRRR he was driving me insane! Whatever. Victory would be made all the sweeter by making him eat those words. 

“You know, not too long ago I was traveling with a rather handsome, foolhardy, nauseatingly optimistic young man who loved me and tried his best to support me in all things, no matter how impossible they seemed. See if you can find him while I go kick some dwarven ass, won’t you?” 

Alistair went back to crossing his arms in frustration. “There’s a reason men, not women, fight wars, Scarlett.” He declared as I began walking away. 

Oh. No. He. Did. Not. I turned back to face him, my eyes ablaze with grit and fortitude. “You’re right, Alistair. Men fight wars. And women win them.” With that I kept on walking and left to go face my next opponent.

It was Hanashan—the fight I was least looking forward to. I respected her, this silent, fervent warrior, and that made things difficult. She wasn’t going to fall for cheap tricks or vicious mockery. This would be a true test of skill. 

As soon as she was close enough to hear, I said, “Before we begin, I want you to know that I respect you, and your devotion to your cause. It’s an honor to be in your company. May the best woman win.” 

She gave me a sincere nod and offered me a handshake—a gesture of goodwill none of the others had bothered with. I shook her hand firmly and then the Proving Master began his spiel. 

He decided this would be a round with nothing but our bare hands. I’m not gonna lie, I’d grown rather partial to my sword by now. It was my best friend if you don’t count Alistair, though at this point, I probably preferred the company of the sword. He was being a complete dick. Anyway, I digress. My sword. I liked it. And before long I began to sorely miss it. 

You’d think I’d have the advantage here, easily being twice her height and weight. But Maker’s breath she was fast. It took every ounce of concentration I had to keep my eyes on her, let alone try to land a blow. I kept my arms up to block her attacks and tried my best to keep my distance. My arms were longer, so I could land a hit without her being within reach to do the same. But she found ways to get in close and get back out just as quickly. And when she did hit, she knew how to make it count. I could feel the bruises and contusions forming already, and we were only a few minutes in. How in the Maker’s name was I going to get out of this one? 

If there’s one thing this Maker-forsaken Blight has taught me, it’s how to take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. Let her hit me, I reasoned. I could take it. Eventually, she’d get tired. It was inevitable. It took more energy for her to reach up and land a blow than it did for me to keep blocking and hit downward. She couldn’t keep up that speed and energy forever. And as soon as I sensed her fatigue and saw my opening, I reached back with my right arm, and punched her in the stomach as hard as I could, hearing her shallow gasp as the wind escaped her body. While she was still recovering from that, I jabbed her in the face with my left, knocking her prone. I didn’t want to hurt her, not really, but I knew as long as she was conscious, she was going to keep on coming. That was what true warriors do. Rendering her unconscious seemed like my best option, albeit an imperfect one. 

At this point I was sore, and was beginning to feel quite tired myself, but I knew giving up was not an option. I would have kept going regardless in order to secure Orzammar’s aid in the fight to come, but Alistair had made this personal. I shook it off and readied myself for the next bout. 

 

The next round was paired combat. I would have normally chosen Alistair as my second, but since he had me royally pissed, I opted to go with Morrigan—I figured he’d love that, right? Teehehe. 

It almost wasn’t fair, really. As soon as the Master said “Fight,” she froze both of our opponents where they stood and I went to work, stabbing and slashing enough for it to count, but not enough to take their lives. When the spell wore off, they were so badly wounded it didn’t take much more to convince them to lay down their swords at our feet. Not too shabby for a pair of poor, defenseless girls, eh? 

Ahh, we’d arrived, finally, to the last round. They saved that Piotin guy the ardent fan was talking about earlier for last. This fight was four on four. I thought about calling those Harrowmont fighters I’d convinced earlier to fight with me, but you know what? I didn’t need them. I had a point to prove. I would have a contingent made up entirely of women, thankyouverymuch. Morrigan, Wynne, and Leliana would be the ones fighting at my side. 

When we were all assembled, Piotin just couldn’t resist heckling us. 

“You fight well, for a woman. But clearly you don’t know what you’re up against here. Why don’t you all run along, put on something pretty, and prepare our victory feast? You know, in the kitchen, where you belong.” 

I let a slow, cruel smile play across my lips. “Shut up and fight.” 

Rather than all of us taking one opponent each, we fought as one. It was like a symphony. We knew each other so well by now, how to play on each other’s strengths, how to accommodate for each other’s shortcomings, how to measure up our opponents, and how to knock them down. Wynne stayed at the rear, ready to jump in and heal if any of us should fall and otherwise casting ranged attacks. Morrigan prowled around the men like a wolf stalking her prey, casting fire and ice spells at the most opportune moments. If Morrigan was a wolf, Leliana was a cat—silent, graceful, deadly. And me? Well, compared to the other three, I could hit like a ton of bricks. It was one heck of a combination. 

Piotin did live up to his reputation, however. He was tough to beat, especially since I didn’t want to kill him. He was Bhelen’s cousin after all, and taking Piotin’s life would most assuredly burn that bridge that Leliana assured me would still be intact, despite the fact that I’m fighting this thing in Harrowmont’s name. Killing Piotin would have been easy. Getting him to back down and live to tell the tale… that was going to take some doing. 

Be that as it may, as each of his men fell before his eyes, his resolve waned. He was getting more and more scared, and when it was down to the four of us against only him, I thought I could see him begin to shake—just a little bit. This was most assuredly an advantage. I charged him. I let out the biggest, loudest, more frightening war cry I could muster and ran toward him, sword fully extended. He turned away and began to retreat, but his little legs couldn’t carry him away fast enough to outrun the length of my blade. I stabbed through the back in his right shoulder blade—rendering his sword-wielding arm almost useless. It had to hurt like a motherfucker, but he’d live. 

He let out a blood-curdling scream as the metal penetrated his skin and bone. I pulled my blade back out and ran out in front of him, keeping the tip of my sword pointed at his chest and ready to counter anything he might try. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Finish it!” he demanded.  
“As far as I’m concerned, we are finished. Unless, of course, you try something stupid. Are we done here?” I asked evenly. 

He tried to lift his sword but the pain in his shoulder was too great. He could try to fight with his non-dominant hand, of course, but one against four with a disadvantage like that? Even he had to know that would not end well for him. 

Ultimately, he let out a defeated sigh. “Yes, Warden. We’re done.” 

“The winner is the Grey Warden! Do you deny this Grey Warden has earned the championship?” The Proving Master asked the crowd. No one protested. All I could hear was the nonstop, deafening roar of the spectators. 

“Then it is my honor to declare this Grey Warden champion of the Proving, who has shown the ancestors favor Lord Harrowmont! Congratulations, Warden.” 

I gave a quick bow and made my way back to the room where everyone else had been watching. 

“You were wonderful, my Ferelden rose. No, better than that. You were absolutely extraordinary.” Zevran complimented.  
“You are not as callow as I thought. Today, you proved you have no match on the battlefield. And that is something even I can respect.” Sten offered. I gave him a nod of thanks.  
“Ahh the sights and sounds of squishy flesh creatures beating the ever-loving pulp out of one another. What a glorious display. When is the next show?” Shale asked excitedly. I just smirked and shook my head. 

I took a seat as Morrigan offered me a drink of water. “Well, if nothing else, I do so love it when Alistair is made a fool of, and I would say you succeeded admirably in that endeavor.” She explained. Then the man himself made his way toward us. 

“Alright, I admit it. You were right. I was wrong. Can we just… forget about all this?” he asked me as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair—a gesture I’d usually find endearing but considering all the shit he’d just put me through, I found it borderline annoying. 

“Alistair, how can I put this… What we forgive too freely doesn’t stay forgiven.”  
“…What does that even mean?” he asked.  
“It means if you want to put this whole bit of ugliness behind us, you’re going to have to work for it.”  
“You can’t be seriously considering—”  
“I thought I told you how this was going to go in no uncertain terms earlier. The dwarves have their new champion. And you and I now have some unfinished business.”  
“Scarlett… Do you really think this is wise?” Wynne asked. “After all you’ve just put yourself through, do you really want to add more?”  
“I don’t expect you to understand, Wynne. But I need this. We need this.” I gestured back and forth toward Alistair and myself.  
“If you’d just let me explain—” Alistair began.  
I didn’t let him finish. “Oh, you’ve said plenty already. Anything you could possibly have to say now will fall on deaf ears. The Proving Grounds. One hour. Let’s finish this.”


	38. The Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! Very light bondage/blood play
> 
> After Alistair's immature and outright sexist remarks during the Proving, Scarlett makes good on her promise to take the fight to him and show him just how formidable a "helpless" woman can be. But, as it turns out, Alistair has a few tricks up his sleeve as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, dear readers! The last chapter was a bit heavy, so I wanted to lighten the mood a bit with this one and bring Alistair back to his "adorkable" roots. I hope you enjoy it and as always, comments and kudos make my day. Thanks!

I instructed the others to assess the situation and consider our next best course of action regarding this whole Bhelen/Harrowmont thing before retiring to Tapsters for the night. Much to Zev’s chagrin, I made it abundantly clear that I so didn’t want an audience for this little lovers’ quarrel. I’d had it just about up to here with people staring me down while I put my combat skills to the test. This particular battle wasn’t for anyone’s eyes but mine and Alistair’s. 

I re-entered that now-vacant arena like fury incarnate. I cast off one piece of clunky armor at a time with each step I took and threw it hard on the ground. This was to be a true test of ability and technique. No safety nets, no security blankets. I brought nothing with me onto that battlefield other than my own strength, cunning, and heart. 

“This is beyond stupid, you know that? I don’t even know why I’m here.” Alistair called as I drew close enough to hear him. “And why are you taking your armor off?”  
“Because I won’t need it.” I explained dispassionately. “I’d suggest keeping yours on, though. Rumor has it I can pack one heck of a punch… Although, you could probably stand to have some sense knocked into you after all the bullshit you just spouted.”  
“Fine.” He groaned. “Happy?” He asked once his armor joined mine on the floor.  
“Ecstatic. Choose your weapon.” I demanded sternly as I gestured toward the nearest inner wall of the coliseum. That wall had every weapon imaginable on display for the Proving warriors to make use of. He looked the weapons over incredulously before shaking his head.

“And if I refuse?” he asked defiantly.  
“Then we’re done.”  
“We’re done as in… we can forget about all this and go back to the tavern and feed each other cheese until we fall asleep? Cheese and sleep sound especially good right now, you must admit.”  
“No, we’re done as in there is no ‘we’ any longer.” I clarified coldly.  
“Oh come on. You must be joking, right? After all we’ve been through you want to throw it all away because of a few off-color comments?” 

I grabbed a weapon off the wall—smaller, mind you, than my usual weapon of choice. It was more like a rapier than a two-handed broadsword, but I didn’t want to hurt him, not really. Although I really did not like him at the moment, I still loved him. Maker have mercy, I would always love him. I’m not sure if anything could ever undo that. And somehow, that realization made me even angrier. 

I took the sword and rested the tip of it right against his chin as I looked him dead in the eyes. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  
“Okay, okay, I get the point. …No pun intended.” He grabbed a sword similar to mine and readied his stance. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we could just talk this out?”  
“Tell you what, so long as you can hold a sword at the same time you’re running your mouth, I won’t attempt to stop you.” I bent my knees and raised my arm behind me, assuming the usual en garde position.  
“Well, I suppose that’s someTHING!” His voice grew shrill as I advanced toward him and lunged to land a hit—a hit which he narrowly avoided.  
“Maker’s breath! You almost stuck me!” He wailed.  
“Then I suggest you start paying attention.” I advised as I moved to run my blade across his left pectoral muscle, drawing a little blood that stained his white tunic.  
“Hey!” He shouted. “Haven’t I told you I scar easily?” 

I just rolled my eyes and kept on coming. As I advanced, he kept on retreating, never attempting to raise his sword for more than a block or a parry. We’d be here all night at this rate. 

“Fight. Me.” I demanded through gritted teeth.  
“But I don’t want to!” He shouted in protest as I cut his shirt again, slightly exposing the flesh of his tricep. “Ow!”  
“Fight me or lose me!” I shouted.  
“Ugh! That stubbornness of yours is how this whole thing started, you know that?!” He cried as he finally attempted an actual attack, which I evaded with great finesse thank you very fucking much. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. What were you expecting when we kindled this little romance, Alistair?” I asked as the fight finally started picking up steam. With each syllable that escaped our lips came the satisfying clanging sound of metal crashing against metal. “A girl who would just smile prettily and nod? Someone who would be putty in your hands—too afraid, too submissive to take a stand? Do you not know me at all?”  
“On the contrary, Scarlett,” he began as he pushed his weight hard against me and ran the length of his blade up across mine. In a blink he came in so close to me that I could feel his breath against my lips, nothing separating us but the cross of our steel. “I know you better than you know yourself.” He stole a kiss before I pushed him away from me with a growl. 

“How dare you?!” I cried as I cut him again. Nothing serious, but enough to make my point. He just let out sharp hiss before he began to chuckle. 

“You know, for someone who prides herself on her ability to analyze and observe and… whatever else it is you do, you really can’t see the forest for the trees on this one.”  
“What are you talking about?!” I jumped off the ground as he tried to sweep his blade across my legs before I went back to the pursuit. Then I swung high and he ducked and before I really knew what happened he grabbed my hair in his hand and pulled me against him, my back to his chest. I thrashed to break free but his grip was too firm and I dropped my sword in the struggle. Fuck. 

“Now you have to listen,” he began as he growled firmly in my ear, his grip on my hair growing even tighter. “The only reason I said those things was to get a rise out of you.” Determined not to listen, I stomped down hard on his foot and although it elicited a loud shriek, his grip never loosened. “Listen to me! You needed something to fight for!”  
“Oh, the fate of the world wasn’t motivation enough, I suppose?!” I grumbled.  
“No, not this time. Right here, in this spot, you were fighting for a man you aren’t even sure should be in power. And you were fighting veritable killing machines, one right after another—warriors who don’t know the meaning of the word mercy.”  
“Did it ever occur to you to try to, oh, I don’t know, say you support me and believe in me?”  
He let out a bitter laugh. “If only. You’re fueled by spite, Scarlett. I’ve seen it time and time again. Me being your cheerleader wasn’t going to cut it. You needed something else. Something to ignite that fire that I love about you. That fire that, despite all your tries, has come close to being snuffed out so many times.”  
“So, in summation, you acted like a complete asshole because you knew I’d fight harder just to prove you wrong?”  
I could feel him nod vigorously in agreement. “A true stroke of genius, you must admit.”  
“…In other words, you fucking played me?” I asked irritably as I continued my futile struggle to break free of his grasp.  
“That’s such an ugly way of putting it. I merely… er… hoodwinked you. Or bamboozled, if ya like. Yes, bamboozled is much more fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Although I couldn’t turn around to see him, I could feel that infuriating smirk play across his lips. And then after a moment’s pause I felt him breathe in deeply and inhale the scent of my hair. 

“If you think for one minute that you—”  
“Don’t. Move.” He commanded in a low murmur against my ear as I felt the cold metal of his rapier against my skin, tearing through the fabric of my shirt. One move, one flinch, and he would cut me. That bastard. 

“Just what do you think you are—”  
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Probably not. I get it all the time. I guess what I’m trying to say is, just this once, shut up.” He ordered as he pulled what remained of my shirt down and it fell to the floor. 

“Alistair!” I yelled, my inflection stuck somewhere between shock and rage. I was still pissed. But that anger was now tinged with something else. Something… primal. And he sensed it. And it made him tighten his grip even more. “You’re hurting me.”  
“I know. And you’re loving it.” 

Grrrrr! With renewed determination I forced myself to turn around and face him, damage from the sword be damned. The blade cut me but after what I’d been through already today, I barely even felt it. He leaned in to kiss me, and I bit his bottom lip so hard I drew blood. 

“Oh, so it’s going to be like that, is it?” He half-smiled as he used the tip of his tongue to teasingly wipe the blood away.

I just glared at him, unsure of what to do next. Before I could figure out my next move, he grabbed the remains of my shirt from the floor and tackled me to the ground. He climbed on top of me and pinned my wrists to the dirt, binding them together with the torn fabric. And Maker preserve me, I was loving every minute of it. 

“Always soooo stubborn.” He teased as he kept one hand holding my wrists down and supported his own weight on the other, shifting his position down so he could bring his mouth to my exposed nipple. And he bit me. Hard. 

I cried out and with all the strength I could muster I managed to buck him off me with my hips. I quickly moved to straddle him this time. 

“Apologize.” I demanded. He just rolled his eyes. 

I balled up my still-bound fists and hit him across the face. 

“NOW!” I shouted.  
“OUCH! Okay, okay! I love you. I’m sorr—”

I leaned down and crushed my lips against his and he all too enthusiastically reciprocated. 

“Good. Now fuck me like you hate me.” 

His eyes grew wide, apparently shocked by my choice of words before I leaned down and hungrily kissed him again. He sat up and returned my fervor before pushing me off of him and pulling my pants down as fast as he could. 

“On your knees.” He ordered as he struggled to unfasten his own trousers as quickly as possible. I rolled over onto all fours and immediately felt his hands on either side of my hips and his fingernails digging into my flesh as he thrust up so hard into me that it hurt in the best way. Somehow he felt even bigger than usual at this angle. I cried out louder and louder with each unyielding, merciless thrust. He pounded me so forcefully I thought I might split in two, but I didn’t care. This was exactly what I wanted. He was exactly what I wanted. 

“Scarlett…” he called, seemingly to check and make sure I was okay.  
“Harder!” I demanded between labored breaths. And he obeyed by leaning back on his haunches and pulling me back to sit on his lap—the new position forcing him to go even deeper than before—and resuming his tight grip on my hair. 

The orgasm snuck up on me. I can’t typically get there from just penetration but this was different. My body longed for that sweet release and was happy to attain it by any means possible. I let out a deep, guttural moan as I felt my walls begin to pulse and throb around his impossible thickness. But his rhythm never slowed. He just kept going as though nothing had happened. It wasn’t like him. Usually once I finished he wasn’t far behind. 

“Scarlett I… I really do love you. More than anything. You know that, right?” He vowed as he stopped pulling my hair and wrapped his arms around me. 

I couldn’t help but smile. It was as though he couldn’t get over the edge until he had confirmation that I’d forgiven him. 

“I love you too, Alistair.” I promised as I looked behind me and found his eyes for the briefest of moments before he erupted inside of me with a deep moan. I craned my neck to kiss him sweetly as he continued filling me with his juices. He broke the kiss gently and smiled against my lips. 

“Merciful Andraste! Never before have I been so thrilled to have a woman thoroughly kick my ass.” He grinned. I just smiled softly and shook my head. “Soooo… I’m off the hook, right?”  
“For now. But no more tricks. No more lies. Deal?”  
“Even though I had a really really REALLY good reason for doing it?” he asked innocently.  
I nodded. “Even so. We’re stronger when we’re honest and we communicate with one another. Promise me.”  
He let out a sigh. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to be better about that.”  
“Thank you.” I smiled softly and kissed the tip of his nose. “And for the record, that was… um...”  
“I know.” He grinned. “When the great Scarlett Cousland is at a loss for words, it’s a pretty big deal. I think I owe myself a pat on the back for that one.”  
“When you tied me up, I… it drove me crazy.” I confessed shyly.  
“Mmm I’m so glad you liked it.” He purred as I felt his hips beginning to move against my form and his erection beginning to grow inside me again. “I don’t know what came over me.”  
“I did.” I grinned teasingly as I moved my hips slowly in rhythm with his. 

He held me close with one arm and reached around and began rubbing my swollen clit with his other hand. I let out a sharp gasp as soon as I felt him working me in his fingers, which he reciprocated with a deep moan into my oh-so-sensitive ear. 

“Maker’s breath,” I whispered as I felt that familiar heat beginning to swell up in the deepest depths of my core.  
“Come for me, Scarlett. Drown me.” 

Something about his delicious voice in my ear just downright does it for me. My eyes rolled and my back arched as soon as I heard his plea and I felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over me as he continued his slow, measured thrusts inside me. 

“Turn around. I need to see you.” He directed softly into my ear. I got off of him for a moment as he lay back on the ground, then moved as fast as I could to straddle him again. I moved my still-bound hands behind his neck and my hair fell around us like a curtain as I rode him slowly, driving my hips down onto him over and over and over again. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered as he leaned up to kiss me. I smiled and kissed him back as I tightened my thighs on either side of him and began moving my hips faster. As soon as the kiss broke I could hear him beginning to pant against my parted lips. When he couldn’t take it anymore he sat up, taking me with him, and drove himself as deep as he possibly could before finishing inside of me with a low groan inside my mouth. 

“Alistair?” I whispered against his lips as the rhythm of our hips slowed to a halt.  
“My love?” he called back before brushing his lips softly against mine.  
“May I ask you for something?”  
“Anything.” He smiled as he nuzzled my nose with his.  
“Untie me?” 

He let out a nervous chuckle. “Whoops! Ahem. Yes, of course.” 

I lifted my arms from around his neck and held them out to him. He grabbed his rapier and cut the bonds. And that’s when I remembered I was completely without a shirt and we were now covered from head to toe in dirt. Lovely. 

“Ugh, we’re so dirty!” I exclaimed with disgust.  
“I know, but it’s so much fun.” He grinned. I playfully bopped his head.  
“I meant that literally.”  
“Oh. Right.” He caught on as he looked at our soil-stained skin and clothes. “Well, luckily in a joint like Tapsters, no one is going to notice a thing.” He smirked.  
“Need I point out that I’m without a shirt? Call me crazy, but I think there a couple of things people are bound to notice.”  
“Yeeeaaah, I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. My fault.” He grinned. “Anyone with a pulse is bound to notice those.”  
“Give me yours.” I demanded as I began tugging at the hem of his tunic.  
“What?! What am I supposed to do?!” He shrieked as he moved to stop me.  
“Figure it out! You owe me!”  
“Ugh. Fine. Just so you know, I hate wearing armor without anything underneath it. It chafes. So, just let that… eat away at your conscience.” He pouted as he stuck his tongue out at me.  
“Somehow I think my conscience can take it.” I countered as I pulled his shirt—ripped and bloody in several places thanks to yours truly—off of him. I had to admit, seeing him shirtless still did all kinds of things to me, regardless of the fact that we’d just made love. Twice. Yeah, I know. I’m hopeless. 

“Once more, with feeling?” He smirked as he noticed my reaction to his newly exposed state. Damnit. Busted.  
“Tempting, but no. We have work to do.” I explained as I stood up and put the shirt on.  
“You must be beyond exhausted, my love. Let’s head back and rest and deal with this tomorrow with a clean slate.”  
“Fine. On this one point, I will concede.” I smiled.  
“Well, it had to happen sometime.” He smiled brightly back. 

…

“Well, it’s about time you two returned. Did you work things out?” Wynne inquired as soon as we met up with the rest of the group just outside the tavern entrance. 

“Oh, they worked things out alright. Twice, unless I miss my guess—and I never do.” Zevran chimed in. 

Alistair and I both turned an extremely bright shade of red.  
“It’s um... we managed to reach an understanding, right, honey? Tied up all the loose ends? Got all the uh… kinks worked out, so to speak?” Alistair grinned. Really? I barely have enough energy to stand and he’s making puns? 

“…Right. Anyway,” I began, desperate to change the subject as quickly as possible, “What did you find out?”

Before anyone had the chance to open their mouths and answer me, our good friend Vartag (Bhelen’s lackey, lest you have forgotten), stormed up to us, so hopping mad I could have sworn I saw some steam spewing from his ears. 

“You! You treasonous, devious little pretender! How dare you publicly cast your support for that usurper?! When Bhelen is crowned I will personally see to it that he has your head for this!” he wailed. Not good. I was too tired for this shit. 

“Calm down, Vartag. Things aren’t always as they seem.” I offered before failing to stifle a yawn.  
“Explain yourself. Now.” The dwarf demanded impatiently.  
“What better way to gain intel than to pretend to cast my support for Harrowmont and betray him from within? Now I have his trust and can find out exactly what he’s planning. I’d call that a rather large advantage, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Vartag furrowed his brow as he considered my explanation. When he finally pieced the puzzle together, he patted me on the back. Hard. 

“Aha! What a delightful mind you have, Warden! Now Harrowmont has no reason to believe you’re anything but his champion, on the Proving grounds and off. Yes, let’s proceed. Go find out exactly what Harrowmont is planning and report back to me.” 

I gave him a nod and left to enter the tavern, where Dulin was waiting for us. 

“Atrast Vala, champion. I hear your performance in the Proving was nothing short of amazing. There can no longer be any doubt of where your sympathies lie. If you’re ready, Lord Harrowmont will see you now.”  
“Thanks, Dulin, but the only thing I want to see right now is the back of my eyelids. May I meet with him in the morning?”  
He let out a hearty laugh. “Of course. Your exertions in the arena were no doubt most exhausting.”  
“So were her exertions afterward.” Zevran quietly quipped. I elbowed him hard in the stomach.  
“I will tell Lord Harrowmont to expect you tomorrow morning. We appreciate your support, Warden.” 

And with that, Dulin left. 

“What are you doing, Scarlett? You gave that dwarf your word and now you’re intending to betray him? This isn’t like you. This is… underhanded. Deceitful.”  
“Scarlett is doing what is necessary to keep her head above water, Wynne.” Leliana defended. “This is exactly how the game is played. Always keep them guessing.”  
“What about keeping your word? What about doing the right thing? Does honor count for nothing?” Wynne asked.  
“Not in politics.” Leliana answered plainly.  
“Listen, I still haven’t met either of the candidates in person. Call me crazy, but I feel like that’s a pretty important step before making a decision. I’ll meet Harrowmont tomorrow and size him up—see what type of man he really is. Then I’ll meet Bhelen and do the same. Only then am I comfortable making any sort of decision regarding this whole thing. Okay?”  
“I… I suppose that makes sense. But do tread carefully, Scarlett. Tis a dangerous game you’re playing.”  
“Oh, she’s playing like she was born for it.” Leliana beamed. “I couldn’t have handled those dwarves any better myself. You’re a natural.”  
I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Leliana. Let’s all try to get some rest. We have another big day of faking it ‘til we make it tomorrow.” 

…

Just in case you were wondering, dwarven beds are not made with tall people—such as Alistair and myself—in mind. We had quite a time finding a halfway comfortable sleeping position that didn’t involve half of our limbs hanging off the bed. Well, he had quite a time. I pretty much passed out as soon as my head hit the tiny pillow. With the Deep Roads and the darkspawn being so close by, I thought for sure that the nightmares would be even worse than usual, but I can’t recollect a single one. Maybe that’s the trick to this whole being a Grey Warden thing—exert your body to the point of absolute exhaustion so your subconscious can’t do anything but completely shut down while you sleep. Sound logic, right? 

When I awoke I sat up and, of course, immediately bumped my head on the ceiling. Ouch. And that little bump somehow managed to bring my attention to all of the other cuts and bruises I suffered thanks to yesterday’s fights. Everything ached and popped and stung when I moved even the slightest bit. And then, of course, there came a knock at the door. 

“Who is it?” I called.  
“Corra. I thought you might like some breakfast.”

I rubbed my eyes and, ever so slowly, got up from bed, taking great care to duck. 

“Good morning.” She greeted as I opened the door.  
“Morning.” I tried to give her my most polite smile.  
“Brought you this.”  
“What is it?” I asked.  
“Oh you know, a traditional dwarven breakfast. On the house for the great champion of the Glory Proving.”  
“That’s very kind of you but… the only thing on that tray is ale.”  
She gave me a blank stare. “…And?” 

I just gave her my best smile and took the drinks. “Thanks very much.” 

She gave me a nod and headed back downstairs as I placed the flagons on a small side table. Meanwhile, Alistair sat up in bed and, of course, hit his head as well. 

“Ow.” He grimaced before rubbing his head.  
“Yeah, watch out for that low ceiling. It’s a doozy.” I smirked.  
“Thanks for the warning… What is that smell?”  
“A ‘traditional dwarven breakfast’, or so I’m told.”  
“Right. Perhaps we should hit the markets before seeing our good friend Harrowmont. We need some real food and you, as I recall, are in dire need of a new shirt.”  
“If these lodgings are any indication, I sort of doubt Orzammar tailors design shirts with six-foot-tall, rather buxom women in mind. Everything will be too tight and revealing and—”  
“…Is there a downside here?” 

I just chuckled and shook my head. “Alright. Let’s rouse the others and see what there is to see.” 

As it turns out, some actual solid food does exist in Orzammar, if one knows where to look. We managed to find one of the few vendors who frequently trades with the surface who had some bread and cheese and wine to sell, in addition to clothes in human sizes. Score! The prices were steep but that merchant was pretty much the only game in town. Unfortunately, that doesn’t leave much room for bargaining. I opted for a simple royal blue blouse with a slightly ruffled neckline that was just low-cut enough to make me feel self-conscious. But, beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. 

“You know, I think blue might be your color. Oh, who am I kidding? You could be wearing a burlap sack and I’d still be in awe of your beauty.” Alistair complimented as he looked me up and down with a wide smile. Aaaaaand I was blushing. Again.  
“You’re very sweet.” I smiled brightly back before giving him a quick kiss.  
“Nah, just honest.”  
“The shirt is very becoming, Scarlett.” Leliana agreed. Then she turned her attention to Morrigan, still clad in the same barely there clothes she’d worn the day I met her. “You are very beautiful Morrigan, but you always dress in such rags. It suits you I suppose. A little tear here, a little rip there to show some skin. I understand.”  
“You understand I lived in a forest, I hope?” Morrigan asked.  
“Maybe we could get you in a nice dress one day. Silk. No, maybe velvet. Velvet is heavier, better to guard against the cold in Ferelden. Dark red velvet, yes. With gold embroidery. It should be cut low in the front of course; we don’t want to hide your features.”  
“Stop looking at my breasts like that. Tis most disturbing!” 

Now they had Zev’s undivided attention, though he tried to play it cool. I knew better. Something about the mention of breasts manages to draw him like a moth to a flame. Crazy, I know. I was just trying to stay focused on the task at hand but the exchange was so… uncomfortable I had to keep listening. Much in the same way you can’t stop looking at a building that’s burning to the ground. 

“You don’t think so? And if it’s cut low in the front we must put your hair up to show off that lovely neck.” Leliana added.  
“You are insane. I would sooner let Alistair dress me.” Morrigan countered.  
“No. Way. You may think I’m a fool but every man is taught at a very early age to never come between a woman and her wardrobe. I have taken this lesson to heart.” Alistair vowed playfully with his hand over his chest.  
“It’ll be fun, I promise! We’ll get some shoes, too! Ah, shoes! We could go shopping together! Scarlett, you should come with us!” Leliana clapped her hands excitedly. Morrigan just rolled her eyes.  
“Perhaps some other time, ladies. We’ll make a day of it, I promise. Right now, we need to figure out who should rule Orzammar to avoid a civil war and get our army to defeat the Blight. K?”  
“Kill joy.” Leliana muttered as we strode onward. 

We knocked on Harrowmont’s door and Dulin greeted us and led the way to his lord. 

“I appreciate what you have done, Warden, and I apologize for putting one of your rank through such trials. I am Lord Pyral Harrowmont and I thank you for your efforts in helping me preserve King Endrin’s throne.”  
“Oh, don’t mention it. So, is it safe to say I have your support against the Blight?” I asked, knowing full well this little quest was far from over.  
“For us, the darkspawn are a constant menace, so a Blight may not elicit the same urgency you are used to. Ultimately, the Assembly decides what troops to send. If they no longer fear a civil war, there will be no reason to hold back. If you want my support, I have to be king, and right now, there is no sure way to get there.”  
“Point me in a direction.” My patience was running thin.  
“Have you heard of a woman named Jarvia? And the criminal carta she runs?” He asked.  
“The name rings a bell, but I’ve heard nothing but whispers. Why?” I asked. 

Harrowmont explained that the common folk are constantly pleading with the Assembly that Jarvia be stopped. Apparently, no one had yet succeeded in stopping her. Guess who Harrowmont asked to finish the job… 

“If you would help me in this, it would show the Assembly that I, not Bhelen, have the ability to defend and rule the city.” 

This marked the second time Harrowmont asked an outsider to fight one of his battles for him. Not a great quality in a future king. 

“I’ll take care of it. Just have those troops ready.” I promised as I turned and walked out. 

“To Dust Town?” Zevran asked. “I confess I’ve been feeling a bit homesick. A town filled with nothing but outcasts and criminals sounds quite appealing.”  
“Not yet. We need to find Vartag first.” 

When we exited House Harrowmont, I couldn’t help but overhear a rather loud quarrel between a young, apparently warrior-caste dwarf and another clearly inebriated, ginger-haired dwarf with a low, gravelly voice. 

“It’ll be two years tomorrow! By all the sodding ancestors, how can you people just ignore that?!” the ginger wailed.  
“Branka didn’t go alone, Oghren. She took the whole house. Everybody but you. So just get over to Tapsters and drown yourself already. You know as well as I do that’s how this always ends.”  
“You think I’m afraid of some cub warrior whose barely off the teat? Ha! I’ll—”  
“You lift a weapon or attack a single citizen in Orzammar, and you’re stripped of your caste and exiled. Even you can’t have forgotten that. Get out of here before I call a guardsman.” The warrior explained. 

Branka… Branka… I knew that name from somewhere. But where… Oh holy fuck, she’s the missing Paragon everyone’s all up in arms about! I broke out into a quick jog to catch up with Oscar. Odin. Whatever his name was. 

“Hey!” I called out.  
“Yeah? What do you want?!” the dwarf groaned.  
“You… you said something about Branka. You spoke as if you knew her. What can you tell me?” I asked.  
“Why? So you can pretend to care? Hey, I heard about you. Grey Warden. Coming from the surface. Great crisis in the world. People are saying how you’ve thrown yourself onto Harrowmont’s wagon train. I figured you’d be the one, you know, who could help me find Branka. But I guess you’re just like all the rest.”  
“My only concern is defeating the oncoming Blight.” I explained plainly.  
“You don’t need a king to defeat a Blight. You need a Paragon. And the city’s only living one has been lost in the Deep Roads for two years. Two years and no one’s raised a bleeding army to go look for her! Why do you care, huh? You looking to uncover all her secrets? Is that what Harrowmont wants?”  
“I want to quickest route to securing aid against a Blight. If finding this Paragon is what it takes, so be it.”  
“Well, I know both Harrowmont and Bhelen have been asking about her. Two years without a peep and suddenly now they want to start looking.”  
“It makes sense, if a Paragon supersedes the authority of the Assembly. Get a Paragon to endorse your claim to the throne, and this bloody struggle comes to an abrupt end.”  
“Well well well, look who can put two and two together. Look, you find out what they know and tell me, and it might help in my search to find her. Or don’t. It’s all the same to me.” 

And he turned and kept on walking—likely headed to the tavern judging by the smell. And I just let him go. One problem at a time, Scarlett. 

I went and found Vartag and explained the whole Jarvia thing. He advised me to go ahead with the plan, and while I’m at it, to plant a few papers on Jarvia’s corpse, “proving” that Harrowmont's cousin Harvel is implicated in lyrium smuggling with the carta. And this is the second time someone in Bhelen’s camp has asked me to work with falsified evidence. 

Aaaaand I’m just as torn as ever. Fuck. Looks like this is gonna have to be a game-time decision. And Alistair said I always have to have a plan. Psh. Shows what he knows. When it comes to Orzammar’s future ruler, I’m just flying by the seat of my pants. What could possibly go wrong?


	39. Change Is Gonna Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still unsure of who is most fit to rule Orzammar in Endrin's wake, Scarlett and her companions make for Dust Town, and get a harsh dose of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Sorry for the wait! Times have been rough. I hope you enjoy and thanks in advance for taking the time to read, for your comments, and kudos. Enjoy!

Wracked with indecision, I led the way toward Dust Town, hoping beyond all hope that things would become clearer as the quest drew on. As soon as we passed through the rickety archway separating the slum from the rest of Orzammar, that clarity I was seeking hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d heard things were rough in this part of the city, but Maker preserve me, I wasn’t prepared to see this. The dirt roads bordering the dilapidated buildings were lined with trash and refuse mingled with the sharp smell of urine and… other even less pleasant things (you don’t want me to get more specific than that, trust me). Casteless dwarves—men, women, and children—sat among the waste, their skin stained with dirt and dried blood from the cuts and sores and Maker knows what else plaguing their tiny bodies. “Please.” They’d beg in a desperate whisper, empty hands outstretched for something, anything, to go toward filling their empty bellies or putting a roof over their weary heads, even just for the night.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how Scarlett was introduced to poverty. I was familiar with the concept, of course, but I had never truly seen it firsthand—not like this. Granted, the transition from the life of a noble young lady to the life of a Grey Warden was not an easy one. I hadn’t been used to not knowing where my next meal was coming from, or whether it would be coming at all. Hunting, gathering, rationing, often having to go without… all of it took some getting used to. All my life I’d known nothing but privilege. I had a loving family, three square meals a day (and sometimes even a bit extra when Meatball and I would decide to raid the larder during Nan’s naptime), a warm bed, more clothes than I could have hoped to wear in a lifetime…

Thinking about how much I had back in Highever, how much excess I indulged in without giving so much as a thought to those who may have been suffering just outside my lavish little bubble… it made me sick to my stomach. My family had money, power, resources, and what did I do with my time? I hid from stuck-up suitors and read stories of better, more exciting lives I wished I was living. I should have been helping. I should have been doing something to ease the suffering of those less fortunate than myself. How could I have been so blind to the anguish that was right outside my door? How could the nobles of Orzammar just discard and segregate these poor souls and ignore their penniless existence? Well, probably just as easily as I did back when I was in their position. Ugh. No point in dwelling on the past, Scarlett. That’s not something I could change. But in the here and now, I was in a position to change things for the better.

“P-please, my lady. My mother is very sick, and my brother is… is…” a small, mousey-haired child looked up at me with big blue eyes welling with tears, sniffling as she held her dirt-stained open palm up to me. “C-could you help… please…”

I knelt to the ground and rummaged around in my pack for some coin. I gently placed five sovereigns in her open palm and closed her fingers around them.

“I’m sorry it can’t be more.” I whispered softly as I met her eyes. She gave me a bright smile and went on her way, presumably to rejoin her family. And that’s when I noticed more Dust Town residents making their way toward me, like sharks who suddenly smelled blood in the water. I know that sounds terribly unsympathetic, but I can’t think of a more apt description. I stood up slowly and they kept drawing closer.

“My husband passed away six months ago and I’ve been here since. I’ve got five mouths to feed. Please!”

“I’ve worked thirteen days straight with no rest and that nug-lickin’ dwarf still hasn’t paid me. Please!”

“The Carta cast me out because I refused to take a life. How am I supposed to make any sort of living now? Please!”

And so on and so on and so on, the roar of the crowd getting louder as their grabby fingers drew closer and closer and started pulling at my satchel, my clothes, my hair—whatever they could get their hands on.

“I… I want to help, I do! If everyone could just—” I tried to shout above the rabble to no avail. This was getting out of control quickly. I was beginning to feel like I was suffocating in a sea of curled fingers, woeful stares, and desperate pleas. Alistair tried pushing some of the crowd out of the way to get to me without hurting anyone, but the sea of beggars grew too deep too quickly. It was like trying to swim against an ocean current that was much too strong. Meatball barked and snarled and managed to make his way through the horde to stand at my side, but unless I ordered him to attack these people—which I definitely did not want to resort to—that wasn’t going to really help much. I didn’t want to draw my sword, either. Despite the impending danger, I felt bad for them. They were just people. These were not extraordinary requests. But I was just one person. I only had so much to give. And every single one of them wanted more than that.

“ENOUGH!” I heard Morrigan shout, her voice booming and echoing through the remains of the old dwarven palace. Her staff was glowing a green so bright it physically hurt to even glance in her direction, and somehow, her eyes seemed to be glowing with it. This was… new.

“Back away now or I swear on all you hold dear I will turn each and every one of you into frogs for my supper… OR WORSE!” She gestured to each member of the crowd with a dramatic wave of her hand. And wouldn’t you know it? A look of unadulterated terror befell each and every dwarf present and the mob began to disperse. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but there were lots of frightened gasps and oohs and ahhs and I heard the word “witch” uttered quite often. Before long they all went back to the holes they initially crawled out of and left me alone.

“What in the Maker’s name was that?” I asked.  
“A simple parlor trick.” Morrigan replied plainly.

I stared at her blankly, making no attempt to mask my confusion.

“A little prestidigitation, if you will. A useful scare tactic, nothing more.”  
“Right. Well, this confirms it. I knew she was just itching to turn us all into frogs from day one. You remember?” Alistair asked me with a warm smile, clearly trying to defuse the situation and my worry.  
“I do. Seems so long ago now…” I answered as cheerfully as I could manage as warm tears streamed down my face despite my efforts.  
“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked gently as he wiped them away with his thumbs.  
“I just… it’s so bad here. I want to fix it. I want to make it right. This is no way to live, not for anyone. That poor little girl. That widow. All of them… I just—”  
Alistair wrapped me up in his arms, stroked my hair, and whispered, “Shhh. It’s all right.”

“Surely you are not so naïve as to believe all those sob stories, Scarlett. I thought better of you than that.” Morrigan posed.  
“What, Morrigan, you think they’re all just posing as paupers and once they get their handout they return to their opulent mansions and dutiful servants?” I asked coldly.  
“Perhaps. Perhaps they simply deserve their lot for settling for it in the first place. Why do the poor not rise up against their betters? This I never understood.”  
“It’s not that simple.” was all I offered.  
“Of course it is. If you do not care for the hand you are dealt, throw out the deck and draw again. Am I right, my dear Sten?”  
“I cannot agree.” Sten stated dispassionately.  
“...Come again?” clearly his disagreement had caught Morrigan off guard.  
“A person is born, Qunari or human or elven or dwarf. He doesn’t choose that. The size of his hands. Whether he is clever or foolish. The land he comes from. The color of his hair. These are beyond his control. We do not choose. We simply are.”  
“True, there are some things beyond our control, but a man or woman does possess the power to change what becomes of their life. Look at Alistair. Born to a servant woman, trained to be Templar, then a Grey Warden, and soon he will be a king!” Leliana explained.  
“Ugh, thanks for the recap, Leliana.” Alistair rolled his eyes.  
“All I’m saying is that it would be a sad existence indeed if we never had the dream of something better. Don’t the Qunari ever want to better themselves? Change their lot in life?” Leliana asked.  
“What does that accomplish? The farmer who buys a shop is never a merchant. He is always a farmer-turned-merchant. He carries his old life with him as a turtle who carries his shell. The same is true of these dwarves. They were born into poverty and shall die impoverished. It is the natural order of things.”  
“Not if I can help it.” I vowed.

Morrigan let out an exaggerated yawn. “Were we not here for a reason, or do we intend to spend the day gawking at these miscreants?”  
“Let’s go.” I ordered as I led the way further into town.

Lest you have forgotten after reading that rather engrossing discussion about social constructs and economics, we were here to track down a casteless dwarven woman named Jarvia who had become one of the most feared criminals in Orzammar by running a carta—a powerful and ancient dwarven crime syndicate which wouldn’t even fucking exist in the first place if casteless dwarves didn’t have to turn to crime to survive. GRRRRRR! To quote one of my beloved books, “If you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?”

I’ll spare you the tedious and ultimately gory details. Suffice it to say we infiltrated Jarvia’s little hideout and, though it caused me great distress to do so, I did as Bhelen asked. After Jarvia was slain, I planted the evidence implicating Harrowmont’s cousin Harvel in supplying lyrium to the Carta. Bhelen was far from an ideal candidate, but this caste system… it had to go. Things in Orzammar had to change, and Harrowmont proved time and time again that he could not get the job done. And, of course, I felt Alistair’s, Wynne’s, and Leliana’s stares of disapproval boring into my spine once again.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? I mean, there’s no going back after this.” Alistair asked, trying to hide his disappointment in my choice and failing miserably.  
“He’s right, Scarlett. We’ve betrayed Bhelen once. We will likely not get away with it a second time. Be sure this is truly your chosen course.” Leliana warned.  
“This… it doesn’t seem right, Scarlett.” Wynne interjected.  
“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, all right? I admit it. But sometimes deception is necessary for the greater good.” I defended. “I cannot, in good conscience, hand Orzammar over to a man who wants nothing more than to maintain the status quo. Harrowmont may be the more trustworthy of the two, but he also lacks the fortitude to get shit done. He’d get eaten alive. Mark my words. Bhelen is the right choice, as much as it pains me to admit.”  
“For whatever it is worth, Scarlett, I agree. Harrowmont is a coward. This Bhelen, for all his faults, will make this land stronger. Take it from someone who knows what it is to be poor and hungry and oppressed and despised. It is no picnic.” Zevran offered.  
“Thanks, Zev. Your support actually means a lot.” I smiled warmly.  
“Anytime, my lady.” He smiled back. And it was a genuine smile. Not a hint of artifice or flirtation. And it meant the world to me.

“Anyone else have any input?” I paused for a beat. Nothing.

“Look, help me out. I’m here. I’m willing to listen. Point out the flaws in my logic. Convince me Harrowmont is the better choice. But do so with an objective voice—not as someone who happens to think he’s ‘a nice guy.’ Orzammar doesn’t need another nice guy. It needs a king.”

I waited again, but everyone remained silent. The ground had apparently become extremely visually engaging—no one seemed interested in lifting their eyes off it.

“Very well. Time to go see a prince about an army.”

…

I returned to Vartag, explained I’d done as he’d asked, and he finally granted me an audience with Bhelen. Maybe, just maybe, all this petty political back and forth was finally about to come to an end.

“I don’t quite know what to make of you, Warden. First you fight for Harrowmont and now you throw your lot in with me. What are you playing at?” Bhelen inquired as soon as we were within view. 

Boy, doesn’t believe in beating around the bush, does he?

“I already explained myself to your little lackey.” I rolled my eyes. It had already been a horrible day. My patience was hanging on by a thread. I was done with games.

“Yes, he told me. But I want to hear it from you. Why are you here?”  
“You want honesty? Here it is: I don’t like you. I heard you killed your brother so you could take his place and I honestly don’t doubt it’s true. I saw your man kill someone in cold blood right at the city gates. These are not attributes I find admirable. But when it comes to the monarchy, it is better to be feared than loved, and Harrowmont is weak. You know it. I know it. So, let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? I’ve done as you asked. Will you honor Orzammar’s treaty with the Wardens?”  
“I am impressed, Warden. Not many outsiders so quickly grasp Orzammar’s rather… convoluted politics. You may not like me, and I’m fine with that. This is a time for action, not cultured debate. We need absolute unity to fight against the fulcrum of true evil.”  
“I heard the chatter on my way in here, Bhelen. The city is all abuzz about how someone finally went through Dust Town and slaughtered the Carta like Genlocks. What more do you want?”  
“Killing Jarvia and besmirching Harrowmont’s name brought me greater favor, but to truly displace Harrowmont, we’ll need something dramatic enough to end the debate forever.”  
“A paragon…” I surmised barely above a whisper.  
“My my, but you do catch on quickly. You… know of Branka?” he asked, still plainly shocked I put two and two together so fast.  
“I do. I know she’s been gone for years. Lost to the Deep Roads.”  
“You must find her, Warden. If she returns, her vote outweighs the entire Assembly. Anyone with her support could take the throne completely unchallenged.”

“Scarlett. A word please.” Alistair grabbed me forcefully by the arm and began pulling me aside.  
“Excuse me for a moment, would you?” I asked Bhelen who gave me the slightest of irritated nods.

“Kind of in the middle of something, dear.” I tapped my foot impatiently and crossed my arms as I waited for him to say his piece.  
“You told me we weren’t going into the Deep Roads.”  
“I politely declined Shale’s request for a pilgrimage. This is something else entirely.”  
“You know what awaits us down there. This paragon everyone is so crazy about has been gone for two blasted years. Chances are she’s already dead. Is it really worth it to put our lives, and the lives of our friends, at risk?”  
“I put our lives at risk every Maker-forsaken day, Alistair. It’s what we signed on for—saving the world, remember?”  
“Well… yes, but… this is different.” He pouted as he crossed his arms.  
“I fail to see how. Every single arrow that’s loosed, every single spell that’s cast, every sword that’s wielded could be the one that ends it all. For any of us.” I countered.  
“Let me put this another way,” he began as he grabbed my hands and found my eyes in earnest, “Don’t. Do. This. Please, Scarlett. For me.”

I looked into those hazel eyes, so dark and sincere, and it broke my heart. I didn’t know why the idea of entering the Deep Roads affected him so, but it didn’t take a genius to see he was terrified. It was just darkspawn, for crying out loud! We’d dealt with hundreds of them by this point. What was so scary about dealing with a few thousand more in a place with no light or food or water that few people ever come back from? Yeah, okay, it did sound kinda bad. But Alistair typically was not one to shy away from a challenge. There was more to this. And one way or another, I was going to find out what that was. Later. One thing at a time, Scarlett.

“Alistair,” I began as wrapped his fingers around mine in a feeble attempt to provide some comfort. “I know it might seem a little scary, but what choice do we have? We need this. We need the aid of the dwarves against the blight. Consider the alternative: Suppose the day comes when we face the Archdemon and all its minions on the battlefield and we fall short. We just don’t have the adequate force to win the day. Could you live with yourself knowing we had this chance and we didn’t take it? That we didn’t do every single thing within our power to save Thedas?”

He let out a heavy sigh as his head slumped in defeat. “Don’t you ever tire of being right all the time?”

I gave him a slow smile and a quick kiss before whispering, “Be brave for me.”  
He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. I squeezed his hands gently before returning to Bhelen.

“Splendid, now that that pointless show of emotion is over, can we continue?”  
“Sure. As I recall, you were asking me for yet another favor. I’m not sure if you know this, Bhelen, but you can catch more flies with honey.”  
“That’s not really my style.” He crossed his arms defiantly.  
“Well, it’s not really my style to do favors for assholes, so…” I turned around and began to walk away, knowing full well that he was completely fucked without my help.

Bhelen balled up his fists and gritted his teeth before letting out a long, heaving sigh. “I don’t know how to say it any plainer. I need this, Warden. And once you find Branka, you have my word Orzammar will come to your aid against the blight. What say you?”  
“I say give us the rest of the day to prepare and we will succeed where the rest of your men failed.” I vowed as I gave the dwarf my best fake smile.  
“So be it. Gather your supplies and my men will meet you at the entrance of the Deep Roads first thing tomorrow.” Bhelen ordered.  
“Done.”  
“Oh, and Warden… pleasant dreams.” Apparently it was the prince’s turn to don his fake smile. Creepy.

“Well, Shale, it looks like you get your wish after all.” I smiled at the golem as we made our way toward the exit.  
“Oh sure. We couldn’t go when I made the request, but when Prince Schmuck asks, it jumps at the chance. I do believe… Yes. I’m insulted.” The golem replied flippantly.  
“Oh, come on, Shale. Don’t be like that. If we didn’t need that Paragon to end this stupid feud once and for all, I definitely wouldn’t be doing Bhelen’s bidding. You know that.”  
“It is right. The prince’s cause is just sooooo much worthier than mine. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I looked up at the impossibly huge golem with my best puppy-dog stare. 

“Ugh. Fine. It is forgiven, against my better judgment.” The statue grumbled.  
“Aww, Shale. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re growing a soft spot for me.” I teased.  
“Don’t push it, Warden. No matter what happens, I will always be stronger, and it will always be squishier.”

I shook my head and chuckled. I couldn’t help it.

“Where are we going?” Alistair asked.  
“We need to know what we’re up against here. Let’s split up. Wynne, Sten, Shale, Morrigan, please gather as much food and water as we can carry. I have a feeling we’ll be hard pressed to find either once we’re down there. Zev, Leliana, go back to the Shaperate and look for maps, records, anything you can find on where Branka might have headed or what she was after.”  
“And where are you two love-birds headed, may I ask?” Zevran inquired.  
“Tapsters. I need to find that ginger-haired dwarf—Olaf? Oscar? Whatever. He knew Branka and we need intel. I figure it’s as good a place to start as any. I just hope he’s sober enough to be useful.”  
“Maybe Alistair should come with Zevran and I.” Leliana suggested nervously. “Surely you don’t need him if you’re just having a conversation with that little man.”  
“No, I don’t need him for that, but some of the men at Tapsters can be… grabby. Alistair’s a good deterrent.”  
“Oh boy do I feel useful.” Alistair groaned.  
“Just follow me and look fiercely protective. Should be something you’re rather well-versed in by now.” I smirked.  
“Hardy har har.” He retorted.  
“Are you two going to be all right, or do we have a problem?” I asked Leliana.  
“No, no problem. We’ll… be fine.” She responded nervously. Zev uncharacteristically kept his trap shut.

Yes, I put them together on purpose. Whatever was going on between them needed to be resolved before we were miles deep underground and extremely removed from civilization. We were going to have enough problems once we were down there—infighting need not be one of them.

“Splendid. We’ll meet back at the tavern to regroup before sleep. Questions?”  
“Er… it is my understanding that these Deep Roads… they are a nasty place, yes?” Zevran inquired.  
“Well… I mean… you’re not wrong. This experience will likely not be a pleasant one.”  
“Well, perhaps after we finish our tasks, we could… oh, I don’t know… see the sights, a bit? I’d hate for my last free night in Orzammar to be spent surrounded by dusty old tomes and a rundown tavern that reeks of vomit.”  
“Hm… I see your point. You’re free to do as you wish, Zev. But I do suggest you get a good night’s rest. You’re going to need it.”  
“Does that… go for all of us?” Leliana asked.  
“Of course. You’re free to spend the night however you see fit. I don’t own you guys. Sheesh. Other questions? No? Great. Off you go.”

…

As we all splintered off to convince ourselves we were going to be prepared for the veritable nightmare that awaited us tomorrow, Alistair’s disposition was beginning to worry me, if I’m being honest. He’d been a little off since we first arrived at Orzammar, and although the Proving thing wound up being a rather *ahem* fun distraction, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was really wrong. I wanted to help, but I just didn’t know where to even begin, so I just laced his fingers in mine as we made our way to the Tavern, hoping that the small gesture provided the semblance of comfort for… whatever he was dealing with. 

We entered Tapsters and found the drunken red-headed dwarf with minimal trouble. I honestly wouldn’t have truly known he was drunk if I didn’t smell it on him. Maker’s breath, did he bathe in the stuff? The way he carried himself, it seemed the otherwise potent ale’s effects were diminishing. Perhaps he’d built up an immunity to the stuff. He seemed to be no stranger to the joint. 

Oh crap. What was his name again? 

“Omar!” I called out. He didn’t look up. “Er… Olaf!” I called again. Nothing. “Hey, wee ginger bloke!” That did it.  
“You talkin’ to me?” he asked as he finally looked up at me.  
“I am. Um… What was your name again?”  
“Oghren. And you’re the Grey Warden everyone keeps getting their panties in a twist over. See? I’m just shy of blackout drunk and I can remember you. What’s your excuse?”  
“Oghren. Right. I’ll try to remember that. Look, I have a few questions, if you’re of a mind to indulge me.”  
“Always of a mind to indulge a decent-looking woman. Even one who’s about twice my height. That’s one mountain I wouldn’t mind climbin’, if ya know what I mean.” Oghren smirked at Alistair, who was both blushing and getting extremely angry simultaneously.  
“Consider this particular mountain claimed.” He glared as he wrapped his arms around me.  
“Ugh. As much as it thrills me to be compared to an enormous, jagged land mass, might we get back to the problem at hand? Thanks so much.” I said with disgust.  
“What do ya want?” the dwarf asked. Er, Oghren asked. Oy. Why can I not keep that straight?!  
“We’re headed into the Deep Roads tomorrow to find Branka. Any information you could provide—where she was heading, what she hoped to find, whatever, would likely help us out a great deal.”  
“Ah, so I guess now that Prince Backstabber thinks my Branka’s still alive, you’re not so quick to say I’m crazy, huh?”  
“I never said you were crazy. Drunk, perhaps, but not crazy.” I explained.  
“Look, Branka was a brilliant girl, but half the time she’d add two and two and make fifty. You want to find her, you need someone who knows how she thinks.”  
“Well, that’s precisely why I’m here talking to you. What exactly was she to you, anyway? You were obviously… close...” I asked.  
“Haha! My wife, you sodding nug-licker!” 

My eyes grew wide with surprise. I couldn’t help it. I’d be shite at poker. 

“Really? You don’t strike me as the, uh, marrying kind.” Alistair interjected.  
“Oh you’d be surprised, pretty boy. I’ve had plenty of women begging for a piece of this!”  
“Pretty boy?!” Alistair echoed, clearly taking offense to the moniker.  
“BOYS!” I shouted loud enough for the bar patrons to quiet down for the briefest of moments. Awkward. “We’re wasting time. Info, Oswald. Now.”  
“Oghren! And anyway, that’s my whole point. I know her better than anyone. You need to take me with you.”  
“WHAT?!” Alistair and I shouted in unison.  
“You want to know what she was after? I’ll tell you, but ONLY if you let me come.”  
“We’ll have enough to deal with once we’re in the Deep Roads. You’d only be a liability.” I protested.  
“Puh! I’m not some sodding elf maiden who sits around and waits for some passing hero to solve my problems. I’m a bloody warrior! If you’re serious about finding her, you’re going to need my help. If we pool our knowledge, we might stand a chance. Otherwise, good sodding luck.” 

I thought about it for a moment, then hung my head in defeat. He had me over a barrell and he bloody knew it. 

“Bhelen won’t like it.” Alistair warned.  
“Ah, I so love that about you. Always able to find the bright side.” I smiled brightly. “Alright Oslo, you have a deal.” I offered the dwarf my hand for a shake.  
“Oghren!” he insisted as he took it. “See you lily-lickers tomorrow, then. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”  
“I’d settle for sober.” I suggested.  
“No promises.” was all he said in return before he went off to relieve himself on a nearby mostly vacant wall. Lovely. 

“Well,” I began as I turned to face Alistair, “I’d imagine the others won’t be back for some time. How do you want to spend our last night of freedom?” I asked in my most flirty, tantalizing timbre in an attempt to get him to loosen up a little. No luck. He remained stoic as ever. 

“With you. I don’t care where or how. Just with you.” 

I couldn’t help but smile and ran the back of my hand down his cheek. 

“That was the right answer.”  
“Had to happen sometime.” He gave me the slightest of smirks back, his eyes still full of dread and apprehension. Ugh. Not good. Whatever was broken, I had to fix it. Think, Scarlett… think… 

Thinking… 

Thinking……. 

EUREKA! 

“I have an idea! Meet me in our room in ten minutes.”  
“I must admit, I like the sound of that.”  
“I thought you might.” I beamed and gave him a quick kiss before rushing upstairs to prepare. 

Hmm… all right. I’ll throw this here and toss this up here and wrap this around here and voila! Perfect! And just in time, too. As soon as I was finished I heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” I called. “But open the door slowly!”  
“Wow! This is… this is… what is this?” Alistair asked as he gingerly made his way past the doorframe.  
“This, my dearest Alistair, is a blanket fort.”  
“A what now?”  
“Oh come on! You never made a blanket fort as a child?”  
“Didn’t need to. I had the tree house, remember?”  
“Oh. Right. Well, this is the next best thing. Come inside!”  
“Wait a minute. You, who hates building tents, put this together in less than ten minutes?” He asked as he carefully climbed into our little fabric cocoon.  
“I know, a weird dichotomy. I guess I’ve had more practice building these, heh. I made them a lot way back when. No matter how bad things were or how scared I was feeling, hiding in one of these always made me feel better. Safer. Tonight of all nights, I thought one might come in handy.” I gave him my warmest smile as I wrapped him up in another blanket and moved to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.  
“You always know how to make me feel better.” he whispered as he breathed in my hair.  
“What is it, my love? What’s really bothering you? Is it the darkspawn?” I asked as I pulled away slowly to meet his eyes.  
“No, it’s not the darkspawn I’m afraid of. I... “ He looked down at the ground and found my hands with his. “It’s losing you that has me so scared.” he admitted barely above a whisper.  
“You worry too much. Two Grey Wardens against an army of darkspawn? Psh. I’d take those odds any day of the week.” I smiled reassuringly. Only he clearly wasn’t convinced. Somehow he looked… sadder. 

“You ever think of the day we first met?” he asked completely out of left field.  
“Sometimes. The memory is… bittersweet, to put it mildly.”  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you remember when I asked you whether you’d always wanted to be a Grey Warden?”  
I nodded slowly.  
“I believe your reply was that you hadn’t really given it much thought.”  
I nodded some more.  
“Well, I think we both know by now that that was a lie.” He smiled softly. “Care to change your answer?”  
“Honestly? No. I didn’t want to be a Grey Warden. I wanted my home and my books and my family. At that moment, I didn’t really know what I was getting into. I was too riddled with grief to think straight. But I can tell you I certainly was not in the mood to join up for some noble cause and sacrifice myself for the good of humanity.”  
“Fair enough. I know this life it… it’s not for everyone.” He furrowed his brow before working up the courage to ask the next part. “And what about now? If you could go back and make it so you never did the Joining, if you could go back to your old life, would you do it?”  
“I don’t think I can even entertain that question, hypothetical or otherwise.”  
“Try.” was all he said in return. 

I thought long and hard for a few seconds before opening my mouth to respond. 

“It’s been no bed of roses, I won’t lie. My life before was much more… comfortable. But, being a Grey Warden... it’s given me the strength to go on when I otherwise would have faltered. It’s given me a sense of purpose when I had lost everything I once held dear. It’s given me the means to fight the monsters that threaten our very existence. And, most importantly, it led me to you. I told you before, Alistair: I would undergo the Joining again in a heartbeat so long as it meant I could stay by your side.” 

He pulled me in for a slow, deep, lingering kiss. It was wonderful and beautiful and sensual, but I could sense his melancholy in it, as though he were kissing me for the very last time. 

“I love you, Scarlett. Always. Please, no matter what happens, never forget that.”


	40. Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Scarlett and Alistair share one perfect morning together before that perfection gets completely shattered by a very unexpected realization in The Deep Roads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! Here it is. The big one. I hope you enjoy the liberties I've taken with this otherwise familiar plot. Be sure to leave your comments below!

We fell asleep in each other’s arms, shrouded by our little fabric fortress, which was now a collapsed mess strewn about the room due to my fitful sleeping patterns—one of the many joys that came along with being a Grey Warden. Not to mention, Alistair’s particular unease about this mission was getting to me. Between everything I’d heard about the Deep Roads up til now and the almost constant look of trepidation emanating from his honey-colored eyes since Bhelen requested we find Branka, I was positively dreading whatever awaited us down there. And being this close to a vast concentration of darkspawn made the nightmares so much worse than they’d been before. I hadn’t really noticed after the Proving, but a quiet evening in proved to be a bad idea for distracting me from bad dreams. Morning came all too soon. I knew I should get out of bed and face whatever the day held for us head on but… five more minutes. Just five more minutes here, safe, wrapped up in the arms of the man I love. For just five more minutes, let me bask in the sweet perfection that is his embrace. Let me keep my eyes closed tight and pretend everything is going to be all right.

I breathed in the musky scent of his skin, rested my ear against his chest to listen to his slow breaths and steady heartbeat. I lightly ran my fingernails over his exposed tummy, feeling the goosebumps rise in their wake. Despite the undeniable impending doom, I couldn’t help but feel my lips curl into a soft smile as I drowned my senses in the dizzying concoction that was Alistair’s very essence. Maker’s breath, did I love him. And I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I was loved back. For those five perfect minutes, I could just lay there with him and comprehend the true meaning of the words, “I don’t want anything more.” I pray you are lucky enough to know this feeling, dear reader. There is nothing else like it in the world. 

I raised myself up slightly and placed a soft kiss on each of his eyelids before I felt them slowly flutter open. Neither of us said a word. I just smiled tenderly into those newly opened hazel eyes and ran the back of my hand down his cheek. Perhaps there were no words for a morning like this. Perhaps the looks of pure love and adoration on our faces were enough to convey what need not be spoken. He wrapped me up tighter as he brushed his lips across mine, barely touching. I reciprocated his barely there kiss as I ran my fingers through his hair. The kiss grew in intensity as the tip of his tongue slipped past my lips and I felt his hand begin parting my knees, again, barely touching me. I felt his fingers slowly, ever so slowly, move between my legs, lightly grazing the fabric of my panties, as he pulled away far enough to look deeply into my eyes while he touched me. My hips began rocking against his hand, eager to feel more of his touch. He pressed harder against the fabric, but was making no move to touch my skin beneath it. My breathing was becoming heavier, tickling his lips each time I exhaled. But he went no further. 

Not to be outdone, I moved my hand between his legs as well, rubbing his already-firm manhood with my open palm over his smallclothes. He was the first to break the delicate silence by letting a soft, involuntary “mmm” escape his throat. I felt his fingers pull my panties to the side before lightly caressing my pubic hair—but again he moved no deeper. Once again I pushed my hips against his hand, goading him to go further, to give me more, but he didn’t listen. He just kept studying the look of delicious torture on my face as he teased me so sweetly. For one instant, he let a single finger slip and rub against my drenched little button and I couldn’t help but let out a deep, guttural moan as I felt my eyes roll back. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though he were bathing in the sound. I stopped rubbing him. Suddenly I couldn’t concentrate anymore. 

“Lay back.” he whispered softly against my lips, his fingers stopping completely. I happily complied and reclined on my back so I was staring up at him, eagerly anticipating whatever he was intending to do next. He grabbed the hem of my nightshirt and pulled it up, up, and off of me as I raised my arms to help him remove the garment. He moved so he was on top of me, his weight supported by his broad shoulders and muscular arms. He lowered himself and gave me another barely there kiss before making his way down to my neck, my collarbone, the center of my chest, completely avoiding my breasts that were so aching for his touch. He was driving me mad. He continued kissing me lower and lower, a straight line down the length of my stomach. He kissed my skin around the edge of my panties before grabbing the fabric in his teeth and pulling it down. My breathing became even heavier then as I thought of what surely awaited me. Then he sat up on his haunches and gently pushed my legs wider apart, making no move to touch me anywhere else. Instead, his intense gaze was the only thing that wandered over every inch of my exposed body. 

“Alistair?” I whispered.  
“Maker’s breath.” he whispered back. “Of all the wonders I have seen, never have I seen anything as beautiful as you.” 

He grabbed one of my feet in his hand and kissed the bottom of it, then his light kisses trailed from my ankle, up the inside of my calf, the inside of my knee, the inside of my thigh… I could tell he was stalling for time, and those five minutes I borrowed had run out long ago. I so didn’t want to stop him but, duty was calling. 

“Alistair… we… we really shouldn’t...” I stammered.  
“Shhh. I’m about to make love to a goddess. She must be properly worshipped.” He gave me the slightest of smirks before slowly, so agonizingly slowly, lowering himself so his face was right against my wet, swollen lips, running his tongue along the length of my womanhood. That shut me up effectively. I felt a shiver make its way down my spine as I unconsciously pushed my hips up against his face. He used his arms to force my hips back down to the floor so he could explore as he wished with no interference. 

The tip of his tongue found my throbbing little pearl and swirled around it, again, so very slowly. My stomach was rising and falling drastically with each quick, heavy breath I took. I ran my fingers through his hair again as he kept working me with his tongue, swirling, licking, probing along my slick folds. But again, he made no move to go deeper, and if some part of him wasn’t inside me soon I was liable to go insane. I finally felt his tongue beginning to move lower and despite his pressure on my hips I still managed to raise them up to meet it. Then he sat up and stopped completely. 

“Alistair!” I cried out in total frustration.  
“I love the way you taste, Scarlett. Have I ever told you that?” He admitted in a low, throaty voice as he removed his smallclothes and climbed back on top of me, his face level with mine, his body between my legs, the tip of his hard cock now right outside my dripping wet opening. I tried raising my hips so he’d go deeper but he backed away just as quickly. He was determined to do this his way. Fine. He wasn’t the only one who could tease. 

I looked up into his eyes and traced the shape of his lips with the tip of my tongue, tasting myself on them. That made him groan and almost lose his resolve as I felt him beginning to push a little harder against me. Then he thought better of it and moved his hips so the tip of him rubbed right against my pink little pearl before moving back down to rest just outside my slit. 

“Alistair, please! I need you. I need you right now!” I begged.  
“I need you forever.” he whispered in all sincerity as he continued making me wait. I raised my head up to give him a deep, soulful kiss before I vowed softly, “I’m yours. Now and forever.” 

He kissed me hard as he finally pushed himself inside of me, giving us both that sweet, sweet release we were so longing for. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as tight as I could as he kept thrusting inside me over, and over, and over again, the intensity of the kiss never breaking. He was driving himself into me so hard I thought I might break in two, but I didn’t care. I only cared that he didn’t stop. 

He grabbed my legs and placed them on top of his shoulders, forcing me to tighten around him as he drove himself even deeper than before. I dug my fingernails into his back as I rode that sweet line between pain and pleasure and he moaned so beautifully with each unyielding thrust. He began to slow just a little and moved to pin my wrists to the floor above my head—a maneuver he had come to learn drove me absolutely insane. There was just something about being completely powerless to stop him that downright did it for me. And then he found juuuuust the right spot. 

“Oh Alistair, yes! Right there! Oh Maker, right there!” I moaned. He smiled softly before letting my legs fall down around him once again as he kept his thrusting moderate and steady, keeping my wrists pinned in one hand and using the other to find my swollen little bud. In a matter of seconds I threw my head back, arched my back, and came all over him. But he didn’t stop after the orgasm was over. He kept rubbing me. Kept pounding into me. 

“Alistair, I… I’m too… I can’t… Please!” I tried to explain I was now very, very sensitive, but words were failing me. I think he knew what I was getting at as his pace slowed along with the pressure of his fingers, but even so, his touch was just shy of too much. However, the boy was determined. Before long, the feeling changed from too intense to that familiar warmth forming deep within my core. He lowered himself down to kiss that especially sensitive spot right between my neck and my collarbone, the feel of his lips and tongue and teeth grazing my flesh driving me absolutely wild. He had come to learn my body so very, very well. He knew exactly how I loved to be touched and where—the insides of my wrists, my earlobes, the nape of my neck, that line where my thigh meets my torso. It was as though my body were a complex instrument and he had become quite the virtuoso—strumming just the right notes to form the most mellifluous melody, building up to the perfect encore. 

He moved his hips back so just the tip of him remained inside me, shallowly fucking me as his fingers moved faster. Then he moved his face lower and opened his mouth wide to take in as much of my breast as he could before pushing himself all the way inside me again. And again. All the way in. And all the way out. And then he started picking up the pace. I felt my breathing quicken and my legs tingle, my hips thrusting up to meet his with reckless abandon. As soon as he felt me climax for him again he let out a deep groan against the flesh of my breast and let himself go deep inside me. He pumped his sweet nectar into me over and over and over again until there was nothing left, my walls continuing to throb and spasm around his length. 

I rested my head back on the pillow as Alistair collapsed on top of me, struggling to catch my breath as I basked in the warmth of the magnificent afterglow. 

I tried to think of something to say but the right words were nowhere to be found. I just held him close and ran my fingernails gently across his upper back.

“Mmm.” he purred. “Couldn’t we just… stay here?”  
I let out a slight chuckle. “With these ceilings? I fear we’d develop a hunchback from ducking all the time.” I teased.  
He let out a contented sigh before resting his chin on my chest and meeting my eyes. “I mean it. Let’s stay here. Right here. Forget the rest of the world.” 

In that moment, as I felt the weight of his body resting against mine, pangs of pleasure still coursing through me, I almost said ‘yes, yes let’s do that.’ Then, unfortunately, reality set back in. 

“We… we can’t. We still have a job to do. Darkspawn to kill. Lives to save.” 

He began planting soft, sucking kisses across my chest. “Tell me you’re not tempted...” He argued in a low, primal timbre. 

“Well, I could, but I wouldn’t want to lie to the love of my life.” I smiled. He didn’t smile back. He just stood up as tall as the low ceiling would allow him and began getting dressed. 

“...Did I say something wrong?” I asked as I stood up too, very concerned about his sudden change in demeanor.  
“No.” was all he said back as he continued getting his clothes on. I wasn’t buying it. Alistair was never big on one-word answers. He was something of a talker, as you’ve no doubt come to figure out. A terse reply was very unlike him. Still, I didn’t want to make matters worse, so I settled on, “I love you,” as I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek on his back. 

He turned around and hugged me tight and kissed my forehead. “I love you, too.” 

…

By the time we actually got washed up (admittedly, I took longer than usual. I wanted to get as squeaky clean as humanly possible before I was forced to forgo bathing for what was likely going to be several long, dark, malodorous days) and fully dressed and rounded everyone up and left Tapsters, it was… actually, I’m not sure of what time it was. When you spend all your time underground for as long as we had been lately, it was really easy to lose track. That didn’t stop Bhelen and his men from being royally pissed at us when we reached the entrance to the Deep Roads, however. 

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.” Bhelen said as he crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. “Aren’t Grey Wardens supposed to be disciplined?”  
“Aren’t princes supposed to be at least this tall?” I asked as I held my hand up to about the level of my chest—a good six inches above where Bhelen stood. The petite prince just glowered at me.

Yeah, I know. It was a cheap shot. I didn’t care. Now that we were at the Deep Roads entrance there was this… buzzing… in the back of my mind. As though my head were stuck in a beehive. Maker have mercy, we hadn’t even really gone in yet and already I sensed the darkspawn horde to such an enormous degree. The buzzing, in addition to giving me a splitting headache, was making me itch—an itch that was physically impossible to scratch. And I knew it was going to get worse the deeper we went. This was so not going to be fun. So yes, forgive me for using Bhelen as a proverbial punching bag. I had bigger problems. 

“Ha! You’ve got spirit, Warden. I’ll give ya that!” The ginger dwarf… Otis, Oded… whatever, laughed as he smacked my ass. Oh. Fuck. No.  
“Touch me again, Omar, and Maker help me, I will show you just how ‘spirited’ I can be as my blade slices through your belly.”  
“Oghren!” the dwarf insisted.  
“Oh. Right. Whatever. My point still stands.”  
“What is the meaning of this?! You never said anything about this... this drunken layabout accompanying you!” Bhelen cried.  
“Like it or not, we need him, so he’s coming with us.” I explained plainly.  
“Oh. Splendid. Wynne, I do hope you are still in possession of that pungent incense you seem to so adore.” Morrigan chimed in, making no attempt to mask her disgust with the vertically challenged ginger.  
“Oh, the things I could do to you.” the dwarf countered as he very obviously looked Morrigan up and down.  
“Ugh. Stop leering at me!” she protested.  
“Did I say that out loud?” Oghren wondered.  
“Enough!” I almost shouted. “If we’re going on this fool’s errand, Oghren is joining us. He and I are now a package deal. End of discussion.”  
“Aye. If we’re going, let’s get moving. Branka’s not going to sodding find herself!” the dwarf insisted. 

I moved past Bhelen’s guards and headed toward the entrance—zero fucks given. 

“Warden!” Bhelen called. I turned around to face him; his expression softened. “...Be careful out there.” 

I gave him a nod and we entered the mouth of the dark abyss. 

…

“Alright, Otto, I held up my end of the bargain. Before we get in too deep, tell me what Branka was after.” I demanded of the dwarf as I scratched my scalp.  
“Oghren! Fine, fine. Keep your panties on.” 

To make a VERY long story short, Branka went into the Deep Roads to look for a lost dwarven relic called the Anvil of the Void—a forge that was used to make golems. It might not sound like much, but apparently it was pretty much the most important invention in Dwarven history and with it, Orzammar enjoyed 100 years of peace. Hard to imagine, given the current political climate. Still, the dwarf seemed to have a moderately decent grasp on how to navigate these caverns, and that would be invaluable in the journey to come. Of at least that much I was sure.

“Right. So, here’s the plan. Oghren (hey, I remembered!) and I will head things up. Alistair, I’d like you to cover the rear.”  
“Oh, I’ll bet you would.” Zevran quipped with a smirk. Leliana let out a girlish giggle. Well, nice to know those two were on better terms, at least.  
“Ugh, not now, Zev.” I groaned. “The last thing we need is the darkspawn sneaking up on us somehow. Between Alistair back there and me up here, we should be able to sense them from any direction before they can do any serious damage. Make sense?” 

Everyone nodded half-heartedly in agreement. Except Alistair. Of course. 

“You know, I’ve heard it’s actually less dangerous in the Deep Roads during a Blight, since a lot of the darkspawn have gone up to the surface. Perhaps you and I should stick together.” He argued. 

The logic made sense, but that incessant buzzing in my brain suggested otherwise—there were darkspawn down here. A metric fuckton of darkspawn. Surely he could sense that, too.

“Even if there are slightly less than usual, they’re still here, and they’re still going to be a problem. I think my original plan is our best shot.” I countered. He furrowed his brow as though he were trying to think of another argument, but he quickly gave up and just gave me a silent nod.

“And I know you’re all quite well-versed in darkspawn-killing by now, but here’s a friendly reminder,” I began. “Keep your mouths closed. Make sure all open wounds are bandaged immediately. Avoid excess bloodshed as much as possible. The taint is transferred through blood and fluids. Remember that at all times. Questions? Comments? Gripes?” 

Everyone just stared at me blankly. It didn’t take a genius to see no one was thrilled to be down here. After a lengthy silence, Shale decided to chime in. “Well, at least there are no pigeons here.”  
“That’s the spirit! Let’s go.” And Oghren and I led the way forward. 

We hit the Aeducan Thaig first, and it was pretty smooth sailing. Damnit. Believe it or not, I was actually hoping for some combat. Anything to get my mind off that insufferable buzzing that was slowly driving me mad. Ah well. Making small talk with Leliana would have to be distraction enough. 

“So, you and Zevran seem… amiable…” I began.  
“Yes, we talked. I confess, I wasn’t being very fair to him. I wasn’t all that drunk that night, you know…”  
“Oh?” I inquired, feigning surprise.  
“No. I just used wine as an excuse. I… I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but those years in Lothering, I yearned for the freedom and recklessness I knew in Orlais. Fighting and killing by your side, allowing myself a night with Zevran… I feel… alive again. For the first time in a long time. The Maker made the world beautiful, but he also made it dangerous. To really experience it, I have to embrace this. Not… not hide away in some nunnery.”  
“Well, if I’m being completely honest, you’re not meant for the cloister, Leliana. You never were.” 

She looked back at Zevran and gave him a flirty smile. 

“Sometimes it takes another to show us the truths we hide from ourselves.”  
“Sooo, at the risk of being nosey… this thing with Zevran…”  
“We have come to an… arrangement. If I have an itch, he is more than willing to scratch it. Nothing more.” 

Ugh. She just had to mention itching. Even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good, I reached up and scratched my head. Damn darkspawn. Then I heard a… something between an oink and a squeak. I was alarmed at first, then I pinpointed the sound’s origin as stemming from Leliana’s pack. 

“Er… what was that?” I asked.  
“What? Nothing. I didn’t hear anything.” Leliana answered nervously.

Then, right on cue, it happened again.

“That!”  
“Oh, that was just… my shoes. They squeak because they don’t quite fit right.” She tried to move her feet in such a way that replicated the sound, but no dice. Then a little pink half-pig, half-rabbit creature peeked out of the top of her bag. 

“What in the Maker’s name is that?!” I shrieked.  
“Oh thank the ancestors! I’ve got a craving for some spit-roasted nug with hot sauce!”  
“Don’t you dare talk about Schmooples that way!” Leliana chided the dwarf as she cuddled the creature.  
“Schmooples? You named a nug Schmooples? The last thing we need around here is a walking snack named Schmooples!” Oghren groaned. 

Before I could even fully comprehend the situation, Meatball tackled Leliana—and her newly acquired pet—to the ground. 

“Meatball! NO!” I shouted. The mutt was undeterred. His nose smelled prey and even a command from his mistress wasn’t enough to pull him away. I dove in and, after a considerable amount of struggling and wrestling with my favorite Mabari, grabbed him by the collar to stop him from causing any real damage. 

“That… thing… is off limits. Do you understand me?” I asked once I successfully calmed him down and pried him away. He gave me a long, loud whine but eventually conceded. Phew. Crisis averted. 

“Are you alright, my flower?” Zevran asked as he offered his hand to a still-downed Leliana.  
“We’re fine. Thank you.” She took it and got back up on her feet. 

“What is that even doing here? Do we not have enough to contend with already?!” I asked, slightly irritated.  
“Oh, I just knew you’d react this way. That is why I did not tell you. Please. PLEASE let me keep him!”  
“I confess, the creature was a peace offering from me. She had expressed a certain fondness for the animals, and who am I to stand in the way of the lady’s desires?” Zev posed. “Besides, look at how happy it makes her.” 

Leliana hugged the nug tightly, unshed tears welling up in her eyes at the possibility of my telling her to abandon it. Gah. I’m such a softy. 

“Just… make sure it stays under control.” I tried to sound tough but I failed spectacularly.  
“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Leliana squealed as she gave me a big hug. 

I smiled and gave her an only slightly less-enthusiastic hug back—yeah, I admit it, seeing my companions happy made me happy, sue me. But before I let go, the buzzing… it got so much worse. It was deafening. And that’s when I noticed the first mob of darkspawn descending upon us from behind, seemingly from out of nowhere. 

“ALISTAIR!” I shouted at the top of my voice. Only he took notice too late. The little bastards successfully snuck up on us and we were in trouble. Alistair tried to turn around as fast as he could to fend them off, but his efforts fell flat as a genlock landed a considerable blow somewhere on Wynne’s person. She fell to the ground with a loud thump. FUCK! 

I let out a loud cry, charged, and cut them down one by bloody one. No one, and I mean NO ONE harms my family and lives to tell the tale. We all circled around Wynne, ensuring she remained protected as we fought. Oghren, as it turns out, was quite a formidable warrior in his own rite. Good. At this point we needed all the help we can get. When the last one was down for the count, I put my hands on my knees and struggled to catch my breath. Then I remembered Wynne was wounded. UGH. That Maker-forsaken buzzing was doing nothing for my mental fortitude. 

“Wynne! WYNNE! Are you alright?” I asked as I knelt by her side.  
“I… I’m fine. I was just caught off guard, that’s all. The creature only gashed my arm, it seems.”  
“How did this happen, Alistair? This is the entire reason I had you back here in the first place! Why didn’t you—”

I saw the look of horror and shame spread across his face and that’s when it dawned on me. The reason why he wanted to avoid coming down here at all costs. The reason why he’d been sleeping like a baby every single night. The reason why he seemed absolutely clueless whenever darkspawn unexpectedly showed up. The reason why he was afraid I’d leave him. 

Alistair was no longer a Grey Warden.


	41. One Is the Loneliest Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, the Deep Roads... they're no picnic. Especially not for a young Warden who just came to an absolutely crushing realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks so very much for your comments and kudos! 
> 
> Super duper special thanks to PookatheCat for her insight and help with completing this chapter. I couldn't have done it without her. Definitely check out her amazing Roristair series here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/353288!

I just stood there like an idiot, my mouth agape, my eyes wide and drowning in unshed tears and locked in a bewildered stare with Alistair’s.

 “Okay… What did I miss?” Zevran posed as he broke me out of my trance. I shook my head and tried to focus, but I couldn’t manage to break free of Alistair’s and my deadlocked gaze.

 “Er… Leliana. Would you please… um… Wynne... she’s… she’s hurt… she needs… uh…” I attempted to form a cohesive sentence but it was just not happening. Roughly a bazillion thoughts were swirling around in my mind and for the life of me, I couldn’t verbalize any of them.

 “You want I should see to her wounds?” She asked.

“Yes, please. Thank you. Um… Alistair, may I… have a word with you… over there?” I asked as I gestured to a little alcove that was a few yards from where we were standing.

 “Ugh, the whole bloody tavern could hear you only just romped this morning. Must you put us through that harrowing auditory assault again so soon?” Morrigan asked dryly. I just ignored her and kept walking. Any other day I probably would have blushed or scowled or had some witty retort. Not today. Not now.

Alistair led the way to the secluded little corner I pointed out. With each heavy step I took toward him, I felt as though more and more weights were being loaded onto my back until I could barely bring myself to move. My eyes continued to well up with salty tears when I finally mustered the courage to stand before him and meet his sorrowful stare once again.

“How long?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

“How long… what?” Alistair asked, though he knew there was no point in being coy. Not anymore.

“Don’t, Alistair. Just… don’t.” I took a slow, deep breath in to regain my composure. “How long have you known?” I asked, my voice shaky from swallowing my unshed tears.

Alistair let out a resigned sigh. “I… had my suspicions back in Honnleath, but I wasn’t sure until the darkspawn attacked the camp.”

“Andraste’s blood.” I exclaimed softly as I felt hot tears begin to flow freely down my cheeks, all my fears and suspicions now realized. “It’s been that long? You’ve deceived me for that long?” My voice was still quivering, yet soft and low. That was… unexpected. I figured I’d be screaming at him from the top of my lungs. But I didn’t. This feeling that I’d come to know so well was so much more powerful than blind rage. My heart was broken, and my infamous temper was snuffed out by the abysmal pain swelling in the pit of my chest.

He remained silent. I looked deeply into his eyes, searching for… Maker, I don’t even know what I was searching for. They should have seemed very familiar, those eyes. They had the same flecks of green strewn across the same pale amber iris; they were framed by the same blond lashes, the same pink waterlines and tear ducts. They were the same eyes I’d been lovingly staring into merely hours before now as we were tangled up in a most intimate embrace. But for the first time since I met him, I felt as though it were a stranger staring back at me.

Alistair and me… our lives were intertwined before, you see. My joy was his joy. My pain was his pain. My triumph was his triumph. My fate was his fate. When I became a Warden, that connection, that bond, that certainty that someone always had my back, that someone else knew exactly what I was going through… that meant everything. And now that connection was totally severed. Those walls of mine Alistair had broken down over these past months, they were back in renewed force—stronger and steeper than ever. Once again, I shut down. Once again, I went numb, just as I had when I lost my family back in Highever. Once again, now the sole Grey Warden in all of Ferelden, I was completely and utterly alone. I didn’t know what to say. How do you talk to someone you barely know? I opted to just wipe my tears on my sleeve, turn around, and take my leave.

“Scarlett... don’t… don’t just walk away.” he begged as he reached for my hand and lightly brushed my fingers with his. I recoiled from him immediately.

“Don’t touch me.” I ordered coldly without turning back to face him.

“Please...” He pleaded in a desperate whisper. That time I did turn around to look at him, pangs of yearning one last time for the comfort of his sweet face seeping into the cold stone now surrounding my vulnerable heart. But it was too late. I felt nothing as I looked back. All I saw was the face of an outsider.

“I… I’m sorry. I just… can’t look at you the same way.” Now it was his turn to loose his tears. And in hindsight it was probably the wrong decision, but I turned back around and kept on walking.

“Can we get a sodding move on? We’ve still got a ways to go before we reach the Ortan Thaig and we’ve barely made a dent.” Oghren insisted as I got within earshot.

I gave him the slightest of nods. “Yes, let’s move forward. There’s nothing for me back there.”

…

My feet dragged, my sword was unwieldy, and though we did encounter more darkspawn, I didn’t feel anything. No apprehension. No fear. No rush of adrenaline. I just went through the motions and struck them down one by one. Back in the Wilds when Duncan had us new recruits searching for the tainted blood and the Grey Warden treaties, fighting darkspawn awakened something in me. Taking their lives somehow quickened my own, if only for the brief moments in the heat of battle. Those days were gone. I’d grown so accustomed to fighting by now that it was just another part of my daily routine, like eating breakfast or taking a bath. Bathing in their poison blood offered me no release. No resurrection. I remained an empty husk. And that was only day one.

As the days passed, I kept my distance from Alistair. I kept my distance from everyone, in fact. I retracted back into my little shell and hid behind my walls where I knew I was safe. Where I knew I couldn’t be cut any deeper. Where feeling was nothing more than an unpleasant afterthought. I barely ate. I couldn’t sleep—not with the nightmares becoming so much worse with each passing night. And that buzzing… Maker help me, that incessant droning that grew louder with each sodding step I took… I swear, it took every ounce of giving a fuck I had left in me to keep myself from going stark-raving mad.

My despondence… it did not go without notice. The first couple of days I got away with it. Most of my companions probably assumed I was just tired and cranky—fighting wave after blasted wave of darkspawn and worms with fangs and hairy, oversized spiders can bring out the worst in a person. But by day three, the jig was up, and Wynne was through with holding her tongue. 

“Scarlett, what’s on your mind, dear?” she asked tenderly.

“Nothing.” I replied vacantly.

“I know being down here has not been easy, not for any of us. But you seem… off. In truth, I haven’t seen you this way since we first met at Ostagar. Your behavior, it’s… eerily similar to that first encounter. Forgive me, but you just seem so… lifeless. Did something happen?”

“No.” was all I offered in reply.

“Is all this because Alistair failed to protect me a few days back? You should really cut him some slack, Scarlett. He’s trying his best and my arm has healed up nicely. See?” Wynne showed me the barely-there scar on her forearm.

“I second that.” Leliana took it upon herself to butt in. “He’s positively miserable. Like a little lost puppy. You can’t tell me you don’t feel sorry for him. Just look at him.”

I had no interest in picking up the pieces formerly known as Alistair. Not when he was the very reason my own foundation had crumbled into tiny pieces. There was no easy fix for this. There was no “kiss and make-up.” There was no going back to the way things were. And that was the least of my problems. I didn’t know much about The Calling, other than that I should have been too new a Grey Warden to be hearing it. But something was happening inside my brain. Something I had very little energy left in me to fight. A dark force was beckoning me, and my resistance was wearing mighty thin.

“Look at me.” I demanded softly.

“...What?” she and Wynne both inquired in unison.

“Look. At. Me.” I demanded firmly as I moved closer to them with complete disregard for their personal space. “Go ahead, take a long, hard look. Do you see the red lines around my eyes? The dark circles and puffy bags beneath them? My sunken cheeks? My matted hair? My cuts? My bruises?” 

Leliana and Wynne nodded slowly.

“All that stuff… that’s just on the outside.” I paused for a moment before asking, “Tell me, are either of you Grey Wardens?”

They looked at each other confused, as though I were asking them a trick question. Then they shook their heads no.

“I thought not. So, it’s fair to assume that you haven’t the vaguest conception under the Maker what the fuck I’m going through down here.”

They opened their mouths almost immediately to protest. I just raised my hand in the air and they closed them.

“Rest assured, my dear friends, this stuff on the outside? It’s a pale shadow of what’s going on in here.” I tapped my temple three times and gave them a slow, sinister smile. “So, I humbly suggest you both shut up and leave me the fuck alone. It’s better that way. Trust me.” 

Wynne’s and Leliana’s jaws dropped simultaneously. Never before had I spoken to them in such a rude manner, but never before had I felt this… drained. Completely devoid of hope or happiness. I felt similarly when I was dragged away from Highever, of course, but becoming a Grey Warden… it marked a new beginning, of sorts. A new chapter of my life was unfolding, and there was no telling what the future would hold for me. There were no more new beginnings now—just the suffocating responsibility of doing the impossible and doing it alone. Then I heard a slow clap emanating from behind my back.

“Bravo, my friend. Tis about time we dispensed with the pleasantries and called a spade a spade. No tears will I shed if you have decided to sever ties with that fool. Mark my words, you shall benefit all the more for it.” Morrigan chimed in.

“You have a barbed tongue, Morrigan. Tell me, why do you speak to others in this way?” Wynne asked the younger mage.

“I owe you no explanation. There is no writing on my forehead that says, ‘Please, guide me!’” Morrigan argued.

“You are traveling with these people. It behooves you to be civil.”

“You are too transparent, old woman. Do not bring up our companions, when all you wish is for me to be civil to you. I am not one of your Circle apprentices, to hang on your every word. I am not Alistair, who sees in you a surrogate mother.”

“No,” Wynne began as she looked back at the dejected almost-Templar, “It is obvious you are nothing like Alistair.”

“Take your lectures elsewhere. They mean nothing to me.”

“Andraste forgive me, but you, Morrigan, are a bitch. A cruel, cruel bitch, and you will get your comeuppance.” Leliana glared at Morrigan with a vitriol I had never before seen emanate from her china-blue eyes.

“Perhaps. But let she among us without sin be the first to condemn. You are quite the little deceiver, after all. It suits my view of the Chantry so very well that one of their devoted sisters should turn out to be so full of hypocrisy.”

“There are good people in the Chantry. Many good people who are just there to help others.” Leliana insisted.

“And apparently at least a few who are simply pretending to be good.” Morrigan smirked.

“At least I was trying to be better than I was. At least I regretted the evil I’d done. Better than be someone who’s never loved anyone or anything, least of all herself.”

“It seems that at least you got the self-righteousness part down. Well done.”

Aaaaaand the bickering went on and on and on and on. Maker have mercy, I check out for a mere three days and already they resort to whining and squabbling like children. Whatever. These things had a way of working themselves out, and I had enough to deal with already.

We slowly trudged on, and we eventually reached the old Ortan Thaig. And that incessant buzzing continued to worsen. It was more than buzzing now, if I’m being completely honest—though I tried to tell myself my mind was just playing tricks on me and to ignore it. It was more like… whispers—barely audible whispers. I couldn’t make out much except… counting. I kept hearing numbers over and over and over again. And singing. The most beautiful song I’d ever heard. And it was scaring the shit out of me.

Oghren droned on about some other ancient paragon named Caridin, his precious Anvil, The Legion of the Dead and some other historical nonsense that I was only half paying attention to. Normally I’d probably be fascinated by all this, but my heart was just no longer in it. I wanted to find Branka and get the fuck out of there. End of story. Everything else at this point was just white noise.

As we continued our journey, things became quiet. Too quiet. We ran into several darkspawn corpses but no actual darkspawn. It was… unusual. Unnerving. I found myself tiptoeing and sneaking through the caverns, though between the sound of my heavy armor and my general awkwardness, “stealthy Scarlett” was pretty much an oxymoron. We rounded a corner and the buzzing in my head grew louder, but something, instinct maybe, was telling me to wait. I raised my fist, signaling the group to hold their positions. I peeked around the edge of the rock and lo and behold, a swarm of gargantuan poisonous spiders were attacking the ugly bastards, two giant ogres chief among them. 

“Well, there’s something you don’t see everyday.” Zevran observed as the spiders continued to spew their yellow acid, sinking their fangs into the tainted flesh of the darkspawn.

“Remarkable.” Wynne added.

“The Maker smiles upon us yet again.” Leliana cooed as she snuggled Schmooples.

“Your precious Maker has nothing to do with it.” Morrigan scowled.

“Look at that display! Those spiders are practically doing all our work for us. It’s a blessing, I don’t care what you say.” And I kid you not, Leliana stuck out her tongue. Ugh. What’s next? Pulling on pigtails? Spitballs?

“Nature dictates that the strong survive, if they have the will. Nothing more.” Morrigan countered after conspicuously rolling her eyes.

“Quiet!” I hissed. “Let the spiders do their work so we can get on with ours, k?”

Leliana and Morrigan both crossed their arms defiantly, but they did manage to shut their mouths. Point for me.

When the spiders had finished playing their part, we charged in and took care of business. One of them at a time wasn’t bad, but when they’re in a mob like that… things can get messy very, very quickly. I would have very much preferred to stay out of the fray and use a ranged weapon on those hairy, fanged sons of bitches, but of course, I just _had_ to study combat with a sword as big as Leliana. Sigh.

On the plus side, one swipe, one hard blow landing in just the right spot was generally enough to take the suckers out. Their poison burned the few inches of my skin not covered by my armor, but I barely noticed. When the last one went down, Wynne, although obviously still a bit sore at the way I addressed her earlier, begrudgingly applied some sort of healing balm to any of us who were on the receiving end of the venom with her good arm. Voila. Good as new.

“The drunken dwarf fights… reasonably well.” Shale complimented. Wow. First spiders killing the darkspawn for us and now this. Today was just full of surprises.

“You don’t have to make it sound like you’re passing a stone to admit it.” Oghren replied.

“It is not physically weak. Or entirely inept. In combat.”

“You looking to borrow money or something?” Oghren eyed the golem incredulously.

“I am saying that there are worse things than being forced to fight at its side.”

“Good to know. Should I drop my trousers now, or are you done?” the dwarf feigned unbuckling his belt and began to bend over.

“Done. Very done.”

Then I heard… something odd. The buzzing regressed to an almost tolerable decibel—it couldn’t have been more darkspawn. So what in the Maker’s name…

“Ahhhh! There’s nothing for you here! It’s mine! I’ve claimed it!” I heard a gruff voice shriek out from the shadows as it bolted down a side passageway.

I didn’t know why, but I felt compelled to follow him. It was like there was some invisible force drawing me to the small man, beckoning me to speak with him. It sure as fuck wasn’t my gentle, nurturing, sympathetic nature, I can tell you that much. This… this was something else.

“Who are you?” I called. “What are you doing down here?”

“You’ve come to take my claim! You surfacers are all alike: thieving scoundrels! Well, I found it first!”

“Bah! He’s a bloody scavenger. Good as sodding gone.” Oghren dismissed the other dwarf. Still, I felt compelled to follow

“Be gone, you! You’ll bring the dark ones back, you will. They will crunch your bones.” Quite a sunny fellow, no?

“Word has it you can only survive down here by eating the darkspawn dead.” Oghren informed me. Ah. That was the “invisible bond” I felt. We were both victims of the taint. Poor sod.

I followed the troubled young man (Ugh, I swear, I sound more and more like Wynne every day) to where he had settled in. There was a campfire and some worthless junk hiding the few treasures he managed to scare up over the years. I knew his mind was gone. I knew there was likely very little knowledge to be gleaned from this broken little dwarf. But for just a moment, being near him… knowing someone else was feeling what the unspeakable darkness holds… I felt slightly less isolated. For the briefest of moments, I wasn’t alone anymore.

“Go away! This is mine! Only I gets to plunder its riches!”

“I just… I just want to talk to you. I’m not here to steal anything. I promise.” I explained gently.

“Pretty lady… pretty eyes… pretty hair… smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock… So, the pretty lady won’t take anything from Ruck? You won’t take Ruck’s shiny worms and pretty rocks?” His disposition softened a whole lot as he stared up at me, ready to take me at my word.

“Just talk.” I tried my best to smile for him, but smiles were in short supply these days.

“Oh… Ruck not mind that, maybe…”

“So, your name is Ruck…” I began. Yes, it’s true. In all this time, my small-talk skills had not improved. Not in the slightest.

“Ruck not pretty name. Not like pretty lady. Ruck is small and ugly and twisted.”

When I asked how he wound up here, he went on to explain that he’d gotten angry and murdered someone and they wanted to send him to the mines. But if he went to the mines, everyone would have known of his crime, so he chose to come down here instead. That… would not have been my choice.

“Once you eat… once you takes in the darkness… you not miss the light so much. You know, do you not? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you.”

I felt a chill go down my spine as the misshapen creature looked up into my eyes, tugging at my very soul. I knelt down so we were eye-to-eye before I whispered, “Yes. Yes, I know. I’m a Grey Warden.”

“Grey like the stone. Guardian against the darkness. Beautiful like waterfalls under the lichen.”

“How have you survived down here all this time?” I asked delicately.

“When the dark ones were here, I kept to the shadows. They don’t look to the shadows, not if you’re quiet. Not if you eat their flesh. Then the dark ones think you’re one of them. They leave you alone. But now they’re gone.”

“Do… do you know where the dark ones went?”

“I think they went south, pretty lady. Far, far to the south. That is where the dark master calls them with his beautiful voice. So much joy when he awoke!” FUCK.

“Mmm… he’s talking about the Archdemon, huh?” Oghren posed.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” I rolled my eyes.

“After the dark master awoke, he called his children and they all went. I wanted to go, too, and gaze upon his beauty...”

“Ruck, listen to me. This is very important.” I began as I cautiously placed a hand on his small shoulder. “Where is the dark master now? Do you know?”

“He… he stopped calling. I wish I could go see him, but Ruck, no, no, Ruck is a coward.” He moved in closer to me, for a hug I think, and buried his face in my armor and began weeping uncontrollably. This… this was no way to live. Not for anyone.

I held him and stroked his greasy hair and whispered, “Thank you,” before taking out my dagger and quickly ending his life. And still, I felt nothing.

“That was a mercy, Warden. Trust me.” Oghren reassured me.

“Yes, ‘twas the most humane thing to do. Of that I have no doubt.” Zevran seconded.

I just wiped the blood off my blade, stood up, and started forward.

“Ahem, if I may be so bold,” Zevran began, “I think we should probably camp here for the night. We’ve finally cleared out those eight-legged freaks and we have solid walls on most sides. Tis likely as good a place as any we’ll find… I’ll even dispose of the… er… him.” The elf offered as he gestured to Ruck’s corpse.

“Looks like that bonepicker was living in Branka’s old camp. Look at the marks on the floor. There were a lot of people and fires here once. I’m gonna take a good look around. See if I can find anything useful.” Oghren explained.

“Fine.” I assented.

“We are short on water.” Sten stated matter-of-factly. Wow. I almost forgot he was here. Yikes. 

“I’ll find some.” I volunteered. Wasn’t like I was going to be able to get any rest, and I was feeling anything but social.

“I’ll go, too.” Alistair offered.

“Really, I think I can manage.”

“I insist.” He asserted as he grabbed as many canteens as he could carry and began walking toward me. Ugh. Great. Just fucking peachy.

I just chose a direction and started walking. I had no idea where to find what we sought, but I figured if I kept moving he wouldn’t be able to corner me.

“Scarlett!” Alistair called as he struggled to match my pace.

Guess I figured wrong.

“Scarlett, talk to me. Please.” Alistair wailed as he finally caught up to me.

“I have nothing to say.” I replied dispassionately.

“Fine. Then I’ll talk. You listen.”

I increased my pace and paid him little mind, but I knew short of physically covering his mouth or rendering him unconscious, there wouldn’t be much I could do to keep him from talking. This was Alistair, after all.

“I… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know what was going on, honest. Not at first. It still hasn’t fully sunk in. You know I’m terrible in these kinds of situations. I guess I was just sort of… hoping it would go away.”

I picked up the pace again, but he quickly matched it. Damnit.

“It’s really your fault, you know. All of this happened because you just _had_ to save my life with those Sacred Ashes. I know when you set your mind to something you go whole hog, but did you have to cure me of absolutely everything?”

He tried to lighten the mood but somehow, I remained unfazed by his attempt at breezy humor. And hearing him put the blame on me, even jokingly, that didn’t help matters. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly feel any worse…

It did make sense, however, the more I thought about it. There’s no cure for the taint, but those Ashes… they could heal just about anything. They cured Alistair of the poison coursing through his veins. All of it—taint included. It was foolish of me to think the Ashes would be able to distinguish one type of poison from another. Stupid, stupid Scarlett. Love is blind indeed. Lesson learned.

He paused for a beat, probably waiting for me to say something. That wasn’t going to happen, so he just let out a big sigh and picked back up right where he left off.

“Okay, feeble attempts at humor strongly discouraged. Got it. To be honest, I just… I feel so… useless. Like I’m nothing. Less than nothing, really. Being a Grey Warden was the first time in my life I felt like I belonged anywhere. And then I lost my brothers and Duncan at Ostagar but I… I still had you and… well, now it’s all gone. I don’t know if I’m making any sense…”

He paused again.

“I mean, I know how you must be feeling… lost, alone, abandoned. Maker, you just killed someone in cold blood and it was as though you were just peeling a potato or sweeping the floor or something. Do you even feel a little bad for that man?” He asked as he jogged in front of me and turned around to look into my eyes. “...Do you feel anything anymore?”

“There.” I pointed past his shoulder, ignoring his question.

“What? More darkspawn?” He turned around hurriedly to see what I was pointing at.

“Water.” There was a small crack in a wall with what seemed like clean drinking water slowly springing out of it. I filled up the canteens I was carrying and started the walk back to camp.

I heard Alistair let out another long, hard sigh behind me. “Good talk.”

The next morning we fought our way through more and more Maker-forsaken spiders and kept walking for what felt like an eternity until we finally came upon something of use: a journal. Branka’s journal, to be precise.

 _“We found evidence today that the Anvil of the Void was not built in the Ortan Thaig.”_ Great. Fanfuckingtastic. _“We will go south, to the Dead Trenches. The Anvil is somewhere beyond. My soldiers tell me that I am mad, that the Dead Trenches are crawling with darkspawn, that we will surely die before we find the Anvil… if we find it. I leave this here in case they’re right. If I die in the Trenches, perhaps someone can yet walk past my corpse and retrieve the Anvil.”_ Obsessed much? _“For if it remains lost, so do we all. If I have not returned and Oghren yet lives, tell him… No, what I have to say should be for his ears alone. This is my farewell.”_

“Branka was thinkin’ about me! I knew she still cared! Old softy... Looks like the Dead Trenches is our next stop, then. They say the darkspawn nest there, whole herds of ‘em. But if that’s where Branka went, then that’s where I’m going.” Oghren vowed with new determination. And the hits just keep on comin’.

…

The Dead Trenches were just oodles of fun. As soon as we got there, our good friend the Archdemon rolled out the welcome mat. And no, this wasn’t another bloody nightmare. This time… this time the nightmare was real. Darkspawn. Darkspawn everywhere. Thousands of them. All lined up and marching to that humongous creature’s wretched song. Only it didn’t sound wretched, not to me. Rather than filling me to the brim with terror, when I looked upon the Archdemon I felt… peace. The buzzing was almost entirely replaced with that sweet melody I’d heard echoes of before, calming and enticing, beckoning me over the cliff’s edge to join those filthy buggers as they made their way up to the surface. The dragon roared and while my companions covered their ears and cowered, I just stood there, arms outstretched, ready to take the plunge. Everyone tried to grab a hold of me but I was too determined to join my dark brethren marching below. It wasn’t until Shale wrapped those impossibly huge arms around me that I stopped advancing. The golem held me so tightly I couldn’t breathe and then that beautiful monster breathed its amethyst fire and flew away, no doubt determined to make for the surface as well.

Shale dropped me on the floor away from the cliff’s edge and the song took a backseat to the counting again. I sat there on the ground, arms wrapped tight around my chest, rocking back and forth. My mind was gone. Before I fully grasped what was happening, I heard a voice. My voice. Saying someone else’s words. “First Day, Second Day, Third Day, Fourth Day, Fifth Day, Sixth—”

“SCARLETT!” Wynne slapped me across the face hard. Ow. “I’ve been calling your name over and over! What has gotten into you?!” she asked worriedly.

“I… I’m sorry, I… it was… singing to me. Calling to me.” I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead as I tried to regain my composure.

“But… but Alistair didn’t try to jump…” Leliana observed.

Alistair began opening his mouth but I cut him off before he could get a word out. “He’s a senior Warden. They’re less susceptible to the Call.” I lied. “Come, let’s… let’s press on.” I insisted as I tried to fight off a rather potent dizzy spell. I lost the battle and collapsed.

“Scarlett!” Alistair cried as he ran to my side, clearly wanting to touch me but knowing better than to do so.

“I’m fine!” I insisted stubbornly as I struggled to lift myself up off the ground. Nope. Not happening yet. “I just need some water. I’m fine.”

“We can’t go on like this. She’s not well. Something evil and powerful is at work here. I can feel it.” Wynne explained as she knelt behind me and lifted a canteen to my mouth.

“No. We’ve come too far to sodding turn back now.” Oghren insisted. “Besides, this is the Dead Trenches. At this point it’ll be faster to move forward and find a way out than go back the way we came.”

“Alistair, you’re a Warden. What is going on here? What’s happening to her?” Wynne asked.

“The Archdemon, it… talks to the darkspawn horde.”

“What do you mean it… talks?” Zevran inquired.

“Think of a queen bee, the way she gives orders to her drones. It’s like that. Wardens hear the orders, just as the darkspawn do. It’s a sort of… hive mind. We sense them. They sense us. We’re all connected. I wish I could tell you more but Grey Wardens… they’re fond of their secrets.” Oh, the irony.

“Tis obvious then, is it not? What afflicts our fearless leader...” Morrigan posed. Everyone just stared at her blankly. “Fine. I shall spell it out, then. If this Archdemon has been barking orders into their impressionable Warden ears during our travels all over Ferelden, while we were hundreds of miles away, imagine how much stronger the connection must be when we are merely a few steps from the bloody thing.”

“But it’s gone now. It flew away. That should help matters, no?” Zevran asked.

“Should is the operative word, but like I said, it’s all connected. There are still a lot of darkspawn down here, Archdemon or no.” Alistair explained. Brilliant. Gold star for the ex-Warden.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” I growled as I made another attempt and did manage to get back on my feet this time. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Wynne asked, clearly concerned.

I let out a harsh laugh. “What fucking choice do we have?” I moved to join Oghren and led the way deeper into the abyss.

As we continued forward we ran into more darkspawn—shocking, I know. At least this time, we had some help. We ran into a dwarf named Kardol and his Legion of the Dead—an independent branch of the dwarven army not wholly unlike the Grey Wardens, often considered to be the deadliest force in the military due to the fact that the Legionnaires consider themselves to already be dead. They’re down here, day in and day out, keeping the darkspawn at bay. I don’t know how they do it; I could barely stomach being down here for a week. I asked them to join the fight on the surface and they turned me down flat, so that did wonders for our already stellar morale, as you might imagine.

We crossed the bridge the Legionnaires were protecting. And we were ambushed. Because of course we were. At this point I was just tired. Tired of walking. Tired of searching around in the dark. Tired of leading. Tired of fighting for a lost cause. But despite my fatigue, the battle was somehow won and we breathed a collective sigh of relief. Little did I know, things were about to get much, much worse.

_First day, they come and catch everyone._

It was quiet at first, a hushed whisper. I closed my eyes tight and tried to ignore it, thinking it was all in my mind, just as everything else up to this point had been.

“Did you hear that?” Leliana asked.

“You hear it, too?” Thank the Maker. Maybe I wasn’t completely off my rocker just yet. I listened closely and attempted follow the sound reverberating off the stone walls that surrounded us.

_Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._

The woman’s voice was low and even, yet somehow familiar. As though it were a memory from a dream.

_Third day, the men are all gnawed on again._

“Scarlett? W-what is happening?” Leliana stammered as I kept going forward, following the detached voice to Maker knows where.

_Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate._

“Where is she going?” Wynne asked anyone who would listen.

_Fifth day, they they return and it’s another girl’s turn._

“I do not like this. Not one little bit.” Morrigan added.

And suddenly, my thoughts were no longer my own. The words I’d heard over and over and over again in my dreams each night since we’d been down here fully manifested and I remembered. I remembered it all. I turned around to face them, unadulterated terror filling my wide eyes as I involuntarily spoke the words I shouldn’t have known in unison with the stranger:

_Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._

_Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew._

_Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._

_Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin._

_Now she does feast, as she’s become the beast._

_Now you lay and wait, for their screams will haunt you in your dreams._


	42. The Mother Lode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still drained from the revelation about Alistair and the invasive darkspawn call, Scarlett faces a foe unlike anything she's ever seen; and gets a much needed wake up call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dear readers! I apologize in advance for the length of this chapter. I had a lot to cover and didn't want to take any shortcuts. I hope you enjoy it anyway and I can't wait to read your feedback!

 

I kept repeating the words and with each syllable that passed my lips, the more terrified I became. For the life of me I couldn’t get a clear picture of what was to come in my mind’s eye, but deep down my subconscious knew what horror awaited us and filled me with such dread I could barely breathe. I saw the confused looks on my companions’ faces. I saw their mouths moving, but I could hear nothing but those haunting rhymes running through my head—a vicious cycle from which I could not break free.

Sten took it upon himself to walk right up to me, open his canteen, and pour its contents over my head. Probably not the route I would have taken, but effective all the same. As soon as the water washed over me, I snapped out of the trance. I blinked several times to clear the droplets from my lashes and just stared at the brown giant vacantly.

“Vashedan! Get a hold of yourself, Warden.” He ordered. Oh, why didn’t I think of that sooner? I’ll just do that, then. It’s not like I’m slowly but surely losing my mind or anything. Idiot.

The worry was plain on everyone’s faces, but I had no idea what to say to them. How could I possibly explain something they could never truly fathom? “Hey guys, don’t want to alarm you but there’s some really weird shit going on in my brain thanks to my Warden link with the darkspawn and I think it’s temporarily given me telepathic powers or clairvoyance or… something.” Yeah. That would go over well. Ugh.

Then, right on cue, the poem began anew.

“Where is that coming from?” Leliana posed.

“We’re close.” I replied as I turned around and began following the sound through a narrow corridor littered with blood and sinew and fleshy sack-type things. I won’t even bother to describe the smell. Some things you’re just better off not knowing, trust me. I would have thrown up but there was nothing in me to get rid of; I still hadn’t really eaten or slept in days. As for the others, well, Alistair was the first to lose his lunch. And I don’t know why, but there’s something about hearing, seeing, and smelling a person vomit that causes a domino effect. Maybe it’s empathy. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Who knows? But everyone, even Sten, quickly followed suit. The only ones who managed to restrain themselves were Shale, who technically doesn’t even count as a person, and Meatball, who licks his own butthole. I rest my case.

Before long I found the little poetess. And suddenly it all clicked. Just as I had sensed a connection with Ruck, I was also connected to her. The taint lurking within us linked us together. Her face was pallid and blotchy, her skin paper thin, as though something was literally draining the very life out of her. The circles around her eyes were almost glowing purple-red, the veins beneath her cadaverous skin protruding and throbbing, her teeth chipped and rotten and chattering with unbroken fever. I didn’t know what this was, but I felt her so strongly, as though she were one of them—one of the darkspawn. Her thoughts became my thoughts. Her fears, my fears.

I approached her slowly and gently touched her shoulder. She could barely stand, but she still made the effort, her body all twisted and broken.

“What is this? A human? No. Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers’ faces and open doors.” Her lips were flaking and covered with sores. Her eyes were a milky white. This definitely wasn’t like Ruck. This was something far worse.

“What have they done to you?” I whispered.

“The men were corrupted. Their wounds festered and their minds left. Not us. Not me. Not Laryn. We are fed. Friends and flesh and blood and bile and… and… All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so I would be spared.”

“Wished what upon her, child?” Wynne asked gently.

“I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?”

“Branka?! What’s happened to her?  Where is she?!” Oghren cried.

“Branka… her lover and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become.”

“What did she do? What did Branka do?” I asked with sudden urgency. The whole sodding reason we were down here was to find that woman, but if she had something to do with this… the condition of this pathetic excuse for a person whose life and sanity were hanging on by the thinnest of threads, the Maker himself couldn’t shield her from my blade. King be damned.

“I will not speak of her! Of what she did! Of what we have become! I. Will. Not. Turn! I will not become what I have seen!” Somehow, some way, she found the energy within herself to run away. And somehow, some way, I found the energy to chase her. We made our way out of the corridor and I could hear her whispers once again, but she was nowhere in sight.

“She became obsessed… that is the word, but it is not strong enough. Blessed Stone, there was nothing left in her but the Anvil.”

I kept racing back and forth in the open part of the cavern, trying my damndest to follow her voice and collect more pieces of this disturbing puzzle. It was like she just disappeared into thin air. Then the whispers came again.

“The men, they kill… they are merciful. But the women, they want. They want to touch, to mold, to change until you are filled with them…”

“What in Andraste’s holy name is she talking about?” Leliana asked. Oh, thank the Maker the others could still hear the words, too. I didn’t try to answer her. The shadows of a monstrous visage were trying to make their way to the surface of my consciousness, but something inside me was fighting with all its might to keep it repressed. But I still felt that incessant call. The murmurs in the back of my mind beckoning me to a door. And despite every single instinct telling me not to open it, I heeded the darkspawns’ siren song and fell prey to their command.

As we passed through the doorway I began to get… flashes. Pictures. Shards of a memory so frightening and grotesque I could barely stand to comprehend it. I tried to resist the call. To turn back and run. But the force was too strong. I kept moving forward, my eyes shut tight, struggling with everything I had in me to stop the nightmare from becoming real. I just kept shaking my head frantically and crying “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO” over and over and over again as my feet dragged on the ground, ceaselessly propelling me forward.

“Something isn’t right. We should turn back. Maker’s breath, look at her!” Alistair cried as he gestured toward my body fighting itself tooth and nail.

“Hespith mentioned Branka. This is the only way to get answers. We’ve come too far to sodding turn back now!” Oghren yelled.

I could sense more squabbling was on the way, but everyone shut up as soon as the whispers came back.

“Laryn. As she ate, she grew. She swelled and turned gray and she smelled like them. They remade her in their image. And she made more of them.”

“Broodmother…” I whispered in unison with Hespith as I stopped dead in my tracks and looked upon the abominable, swollen, mammoth monstrosity for the first time. This description I will not spare you from, dear reader. You need to know the magnitude of what we saw so you can fully understand why I did what I felt I had to do later on.

The creature stood—nay, not stood, not really. The creature was rooted in the ground and from there to the top of its bald, misshapen head was about 10 feet. Its browbone extended out in such a way that the rest of its wretched face was cast in shadow, but not enough to truly hide its hideousness. The mouth, if you could call it that, was nothing but one gaping sore with sharp teeth peeking out from the center, surrounded by layer after layer of ashen, flabby flesh so you couldn’t tell where its head stopped and its neck began. But that was only the beginning. As my eyes wandered lower, its entire midsection was composed of… breasts is the best way I can possibly describe them but it’s not quite right. Sagging mammary glands lining the behemoth’s torso in pairs, totaling about 10 or so, the nipples swollen and infected. And the arms, Maker preserve me, the arms… two were reminiscent of the dwarf Laryn once was—bloated and grey, but still forearms, wrists, and 10 chubby digits remained. But there were far more than two. Only once had I seen anything like them, when my father took me out to sea back in Highever one breezy spring day. The creature we caught had appendages—tentacles, I believe he called them—and for however fascinated I was by them back then, seeing them here, now, extending from this abhorrent beast, I was absolutely petrified.

As I stood there paralyzed and wracked with fear as I studied the thing, my thoughts turned to all the countless darkspawn it birthed, how much pain and suffering stemmed from this foul and pestilent congregation of fat and rot and poison and corruption, not only for me, but for the people I cared about. The people standing behind me, ready to take on this impossible fight, just as they had every other impossible fight up until this moment. The people willing to follow me into the darkest corners of the Fade itself if I only asked it of them. And something inside me just… snapped.

With a loud rallying cry I ran up to the beast, careful to avoid the swipes of its impossibly huge arms, and began stabbing it wherever my sword could puncture. I was out of my skull—completely berserk. All I knew was the feel of the fleshy resistance against my blade as it struck, the roars of agony as we all cut away at the mountainous creature, the sharp burning in my muscles and the ache in my spine as I repeated the blows with all my strength. The other darkspawn heard their mother’s cries and came to her aid, shrieking and clawing and swiping at my companions, but my attention was only for her. As her poison blood washed over me I began to feel… something. To this day I can’t quite describe what it was, other than to liken it to the way I’d felt back at Ostagar when I had my first encounter with the darkspawn. For the first time in days, I could feel that blood was flowing through my veins again. My heart was pounding, adrenaline was pumping, and I felt… alive. A fire was lit inside of me—a fire that would not die until the job was done.  

The Broodmother had other plans. Although she was now several arms down thanks to my trusty sidekicks, it only took two to wrap around my neck so tightly I thought my windpipe was going to completely collapse. I dropped my sword. I needed both hands pulling at hers to pry her off me, but it did no good—no way was my strength going to be enough to break this vice grip, especially not in my food- and sleep-deprived state. I felt my eyes beginning to bulge out of their sockets as I tried with everything I had to inhale. It wasn’t long before things started going dark. This was it. This was the end. Covered from head to toe in blood and bile and severed body parts, crushed to death in the arms of a freak of nature so disgusting you could barely stand to look upon it without retching. Super dignified. “Here lies Scarlett, strangled to death by a dwarven darkspawn octopus monster with too many boobs.”

Just as I was about to resign myself to my fate and bite the big one, I heard someone shout, “GET OFF OF HER, YOU BITCH!”

I desperately gasped for air as I felt her grip finally loosen, my eyes watering from my coughing fit, my vision returning in slow, fuzzy splotches as I saw Alistair’s sword had cut her two humanoid arms in half right at the elbows, completely severing them from her malformed body. Once my vision returned completely I grabbed my sword from the ground, lifted it with both hands, and lunged it right up through the bitch’s throat. And finally, FINALLY, the Broodmother was no more.

I pulled my sword out of her, fell to my knees, and I started hyperventilating. It was as though I still couldn’t breathe at all even though I’d broken free of her grasp.

“Scarlett, you must slow your breathing. Easy now.” Wynne knelt down beside me and put her bony hand on my shoulder. Then I just wept. We’re talking ugly-faced, shoulder-shaking, head-hanging, snot-flowing-out-of-my-nose, tears-stinging-my-red-cheeks bawling. The emotional dam had once again been ruptured, and I could do nothing but just let it all out.

I heard Hespith’s voice again, filling the now lifeless chamber from somewhere above us. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around and look up at her. I stayed sat on the ground, taking slower breaths to quell my sobs enough so I could hear her.

“That’s where they come from. That’s why they hate us… that’s why they need us. That’s why they take us… that’s why they feed us. But the true abomination… is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka… my love… The stone has punished me, dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death: betrayal.”

And then I heard nothing but the sound of her small footsteps as she disappeared into the blackness once again.

I continued my feeble attempts to slow my breathing as Wynne continued her feeble attempts at comforting me by rubbing my back and telling me in her best sing-song voice that everything is going to be alright.

“No. No it’s not.” I croaked as I shook my head emphatically. “It’s not alright. Not even a little bit. I cannot do this, Wynne. Do you hear me? It’s too big. I…” and then I started crying uncontrollably again. Great.

She turned around to address the others. “Why don’t the rest of you find us somewhere to camp for the night. Anywhere but here. It’s time Scarlett and I had a little heart to heart.”

“Wynne, is she—” Alistair began, his voice quaking with worry.

“She’ll be fine, Alistair. Just give her some time. Go on, everyone. We’ll catch up.”

I assume everyone left, but I never looked up to confirm. Any other time I would have been royally pissed that Wynne was treating me like such a child, but after all the shit I’d been dealing with lately, I welcomed a little coddling. Coddling, however, was not what Wynne had in mind.

“Scarlett, I must ask, what does being a Grey Warden mean to you?” she asked as she offered me a handkerchief with bluebells embroidered on it. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose hard as I tried to come up with a good response.

“I… I honestly don’t know anymore.” I sniffled.

“Well, I can tell you one thing: There’s more to being a Grey Warden than killing darkspawn and saving the world from the Blight.” The mage began firmly. “Ultimately, being a Grey Warden is about serving others, about serving all people, whether elves or dwarves or men. As a Grey Warden, you are a guardian of men. And you guard them because their continued existence is more important than you are.”

“I never asked for any of this. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted this power. I never wanted to be put in this position—to be the only thing standing between monsters and men.”

“Whether you asked for it or not, Scarlett, it is now who you are. And it is high time you remembered that.”

“Being down here, it’s all I’ve been able to think about, Wynne. My blasted ties to the darkspawn. This… unstoppable curse. Forgetting any of it is not an option.”

“Perhaps I should be clearer: It is high time you remembered _your purpose._ If you live apart from others, and your actions affect only you, then you may do as you wish. But if you have power, influence, and strength, your every action will be as a drop of water in a clear, still pond. The drop causes ripples, and ripples spread. Think of how far they will go, how wide they will become. How will they affect the pond?”

I wanted to get angry at preachy, sanctimonious, holier-than-thou Wynne, but I couldn’t do it. She was right. Like it or not, Scarlett, you are a Grey Warden, and will be until the day you die. Despite what I was going through down here, I had been acting childish. I was just too self-centered to see it before that moment. All of my actions were affecting my companions—my family. In days like these, when they needed me most to be their guiding light, their strength against the monsters dwelling in the dark, I did nothing but ignore them and wallow in self-pity. Face it, Scarlett. You fucked up big time.

“I know you’ve experienced horrors beyond reckoning down here. I will not pretend to be able to know what that’s been like. I know you feel the weight of the world on your back. But even though we are not all Grey Wardens, all of us love you, Scarlett. And we’re all willing to lend all our strength to make that burden just a bit lighter, however we can.”

“Even now?” I asked. “After all I’ve put you guys through down here, the way I’ve behaved… I broke it, didn’t I? I tore our family apart…”

“Nonsense. All families have rough patches, true enough. We fight, we argue, we even stop talking to each other at times, but the love will always be there.” Wynne smiled at me warmly. “Come, let’s find the others and try to put this whole mess behind us.”

…

They found a spot to make camp that was blissfully free of blood, the fleshy sacks, and all other traces of you-know-who. Although I would have killed for a breath of real fresh air, getting out of the Broodmother’s den did slightly help my state of mind. The buzzing was really buzzing again, a faint hum emanating from the base of my skull—no more whispers or songs or rhymes—and that was manageable. Perhaps when I killed the beast it weakened some of the others. I don’t know how this stuff works, I really don’t. I was just thankful my thoughts were mostly my own again.

I sat down near the fire and began warming my hands. And then my thoughts wandered. Sitting around the fire had come to be more than just a means of staying warm to me. In a lot of ways, it meant Alistair. And now that Wynne had brought me back to reality, I was missing him so much I could barely stand it. I didn’t know what to do. Everything in me ached to touch him and hold him and kiss him and go back to the way things were before. But I knew that was impossible. There was no undoing this. He deceived me, for a very long time. And that deception wounded me deeply. He put the others’ lives in danger by omitting the truth. Should I just… move on from all that? Pretend everything is hunky dory?

“You uh…” the dwarf let out a huge burp then resumed his sentence and sat down beside me, “You all done being…” he whistled and crossed his eyes and moved his finger over his temple in a circular motion, signifying he thought I was, in fact, completely insane.

“No crazier than usual. I promise.” I gave him a weak smile.

“Good!” He slapped my shoulder hard. “We’re getting close now. To Branka, I mean.”

“You still want to find her? Despite everything Hespith was saying…”

“Branka was always a woman of many… passions. We uh… we weren’t always… uh… well, our marriage was far from perfect, Warden. I can’t fault her none for trying to be happy with someone else.”

To be honest, I wasn’t really referring to the Hespith being her lover thing. I was all but certain Oghren hadn’t been celibate these last two years. I was a whole lot more worried about the fact that Branka apparently abandoned her people and allowed one of them to be turned into that… that thing. But I didn’t have another fight in me. I let it go and settled for asking, “But even now, you miss her?”

“That woman could get my blood boiling faster than a casteless would rob you blind. But these past couple years we’ve been apart… I’ve had some time to think. Distance gives ya a little perspective. Putting yourself in the other person’s shoes will save you a lot of grief. Trust me. Too late now, but… well, there it is.”

“Thanks, Oghren.”

“Hey, I didn’t do nothing. Just thinkin’ out loud is all.”

It was my turn to pat him on the shoulder as I got up and decided to attempt to speak to Alistair. He did save my life, after all. I should thank him for that, at the very least. And Oghren was right. All this time, I hadn’t once given consideration to Alistair’s point of view—how he must be feeling. It’s all been me, me, me. And I felt horrible.

As I started to move my feet were shuffling and my eyes were fixated on the ground. If I had a tail, it would have been between my legs. Alistair must have had the same idea because as I made my way toward him, we bumped into each other. Hard. Like, the sound of our heads clunking could be heard from a few feet away. Ouch.

“Merciful Andraste, are you alright?! I’m so sorry, I—”

“I’m okay, Alistair. I was looking for another bruise to add to my collection.” I tried to smile as I rubbed the newly formed bump on my head.

He started studying my forehead to assess the damage but his eyes wandered a little lower and grew wide as saucers. “Andraste’s flaming sword…  your neck!” He exclaimed.

“What about it?” I asked as I ran my fingertips over my neck and oh boy did even the slightest touch hurt. I couldn’t see how bad it looked, but I’d imagine there was a nice ring of black and blue bruises in the shape of a certain Broodmother’s handprints. Lovely.

“It’s okay, really. ” I cleared my throat nervously and swallowed my pride. “Thank you, by the way. For saving me. I… I owe you my life.”

“It was nothing. You’ve saved my life before. It only seemed right that I return the favor.” He almost smiled, but his expression changed too quickly for it to fully develop. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

I nodded as I gave him a weak smile. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll probably just have a wicked sore throat for awhile.”

“Good. I mean, it’s not good that you’ll be in pain. I just mean good that you’ll be alright. I’ve been worried sick. About you. About us…” he began to stammer and I could tell he was building up to something but could not find the words. “Alright, I… I can’t take it anymore.” He blurted out. “If you want to end things, I’ll have to deal with that. But I need to know for sure. I can’t take this… waiting. It’s driving me absolutely bonkers.”

“Let’s… find somewhere private.” I suggested.

“I understand. I had a feeling things would end this way. I won’t bother you anymo—wait, what did you say?”

“I said I’d like to find somewhere private. So we can talk.”

“You… you want to talk?” He asked, the relief and optimism emanating from his inflection. I just nodded and although I wasn’t sure if he’d allow it, I slipped my hand in his. I felt his fingers immediately curl around mine and breathed a huge sigh of relief as I led him away to a spot where the others couldn’t hear us.

I found a little ledge near a crack in the stone that had some water trickling out of it and I washed my face. It wasn’t enough water to bathe in, but I was thankful that at least some part of me could be clean.

  
“Feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded slowly. “A little.” I paused. “I… I don’t quite know where to begin with all of this.” I admitted as I motioned for him to come sit beside me.

“I understand. Take your time. I’m here. I’m listening.” He offered patiently as he sat down.

“I… well, you were right. What you said before. I am feeling lost, unsure, alone. You really hurt me, Alistair. You lied right to my face for weeks. Why?”

“What was it you said back in Dust Town? ‘Deception is sometimes necessary for the greater good,’ I think it was.”

Ouch. Nothing felt like a slap in the face quite as much as my own words coming back to bite me in the ass.

“Yes, sometimes that’s true. But I would submit to you that this was not one of those times, Alistair. Wynne got hurt because you kept this from me. Who knows what else would have happened if I hadn’t figured it out?”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as he tried to think of what to say next.

“You’re right. I messed up. I was scared, Scarlett. Scared I would lose you. Scared you would… well… do exactly what you did.”

“I know I reacted… badly…” I paused as I began to nervously twirl my hair around my finger. “But there is more at stake here than just you and me, Alistair. A lot more. And you know that. We used to be in this together. The last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. We shared the same burdens. We felt the same bloody obligation to defeat the Archdemon and end the Blight. And hey, if one of us fell, we always had the other to catch us. We were each other’s safety net. That’s gone now. There is no backup plan. There’s only me, and if I screw this up…”

Then, I had an epiphany.

“Wait!” I interjected excitedly. “We found The Joining Chalice back in Ostagar! There’s tons of darkspawn blood to be found down here. What if we just—” His eyes fell and he began fidgeting. Oh. That did not bode well for my new plan.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t know how to do The Joining, my love.” Alistair whispered as he hung his head.

“...What do you mean? You’ve seen it done a ton of times, haven’t you?”

“I know the words, but that’s all. They’re just pretty words. Useless in the ritual. I know The Joining involves lyrium and a lot of preparation, but I don’t know anything beyond that. If I did, I would have done it long ago. I loved being a Grey Warden. I didn’t care about dying young or the bad dreams or the secrets or anything else. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be. I felt… well, complete. Now I feel like a part of me is missing. Like the one thing that made me feel like I was worth a damn has been stripped from me. And I’m so sorry for putting all this on your shoulders.”

I found his hand with mine and lifted his chin so I could look into his eyes.

“Hey… listen to me. That’s not true. You… you are worth everything.”

He just shook his head in disagreement.

“All of this… it’s my own damn fault. I took being a Grey Warden away from you with those ashes.”

“Yeah, and you also did something else… oh, what was it?” he paused as he tapped his chin in feigned contemplation. “Ah, that’s right. You SAVED MY LIFE.” He playfully nudged my shoulder and gave me a slight smile before his disposition went back to solemn. “I’ve seen everything you’ve been dealing with down here. I know it’s been really hard on you.”

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, either. I was just so wrapped up in myself and how this affected me that I didn’t even consider what you must be feeling. And for that, I must beg your forgiveness. I don’t think I could have possibly handled this in a worse way. And I’m so sorry.” My voice trembled slightly as I felt warm tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

“There is nothing to forgive.” He explained softly as he wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “I thought being a Grey Warden made me feel whole, but I didn’t know true completeness until I met you.” I blushed slightly as my eyes fell to my lap. Maker, he could say the sweetest things sometimes.

He lifted my chin this time so our eyes met and took my hands in his. “Scarlett, you are my match in every way, Grey Warden or no. Whatever happens, I know my place is by your side. Although that part of me is gone, I’m offering you all that I have left. Whatever is left of me, I’m yours.” He vowed as he looked deeply into my eyes. “Is… is that enough for you?”

He looked so timid. So unsure. I wrapped my arms around him tight, buried my face into his chest, and held onto him for dear life as though he were sand that would slip right through my fingers. He held me back just as tightly, breathing in the scent of my hair and planting soft kisses on my head.

“I love you. I love you so much.” I spoke softly into his chest as he rocked me gently. “Just you. Not Alistair the Grey Warden or Alistair the templar or Alistair the prince. I love everything you are, no matter what that is. Of course you’re enough. A thousand times enough.”

He squeezed me tighter and it hurt a little but not enough for me to tell him to let go. It just felt so good to be back in those warm arms. For the first time since we entered this Maker-forsaken place, I was home.

“Alistair?” I pulled away slowly and wiped my eyes on my sleeve as reality set back in. “We um… we need to keep this to ourselves.”

“Yeah, I got the feeling you were trying to keep this whole thing under wraps when you lied about The Calling. But... why? I thought you wanted me to be more honest...”

“The same reason you didn’t want to tell me. This would kill them, Alistair. Our chances are slim as it is. Finding out there’s only one Grey Warden left instead of two would just be the cherry on top. Their morale is crumbling fast down here thanks to my stellar leadership… or lack thereof.” I let out a big sigh. “We can’t deal this blow. They won’t survive it.”

He nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“Good.” I affirmed as I started to stand up and head back toward camp. He grabbed my hand before I was out of reach and pulled me in close to him. I gave him a slow smile as he brought his lips to mine, the slightest of brushes. I felt him smile against my lips before he kissed me again, deeper; a move which I happily welcomed. Maker’s breath did I miss him. Aaaand before long we started getting carried away. I so wasn’t feeling even remotely sexy. I was beyond exhausted, starving, covered in blood and entrails and Maker knows what else, but being back in those arms and feeling the hunger in those kisses… well, you know how that goes. And then I had another thought dawn on me. Uh oh…

“Alistair? We… uh…” I stammered as he continued planting feverish kisses all over my face and his hands wandered beneath my shirt. “We should probably cool it for a while.” I suggested as I gently pushed his chest away from mine.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he looked puzzled. And hurt. Ugh.

“You told me it was hard for two Grey Wardens to um… conceive, right?”

“Nearly impossible. We have nothing to worry—Oh. Oooh no…”

“Yeah… my thoughts exactly.”

“I suppose we have been… intimate… um… a lot… Merciful Andraste, I didn’t even think… You don’t think you’re—”

“Maker’s breath, I hope not! Our lives are messed up enough as it is. I can’t handle another complication. I’m all full up. I can’t even imagine…” I started freaking out exponentially worse the more I thought about how disastrous a pregnancy would be during times like these. Between Alistair losing his Grey Warden status and the darkspawn and spiders and spirits and dragons and that blasted Archdemon (the list goes on), a baby was the absolute last thing I needed. FUCK!

Breathe, Scarlett. Breathe. One dilemma at a time. Even if the worst had come to pass, there was nothing I could do about it now. But the future, that was one thing I could try to get a handle on.

“Until I can be sure, we should probably just… not. At least not for a while.” I tried to explain as calmly as I could.

“That’s… not going to be easy. I mean, you’re covered from head to toe in darkspawn guts and I’m still aching to touch you.” He smirked as he leaned in for another kiss.

I brought my finger up to his lips to stop him. “Behave...” I warned.

He gave me the slightest of nods. “I’ll try.”

I kissed the tip of his nose. “That’s all I ask. And really? I mean, _I_ barely even want to touch me right now. I’m amazed you’re not completely repulsed.”

“By you? Never.” He grinned.

“Flatterer.” I smiled brightly. “Alright, let’s head back. I have a heck of a mess to clean up.”

…

As we sauntered back up to camp, the whole scene was quite drab. Everyone just looked so… dreary. They were tired, hungry, probably trying to process the horrors to which they’d just borne witness and failing miserably. Wynne was knitting, likely trying to do any menial task that would keep her mind occupied. Zev was sitting on the ground, stoking the fire. Leliana was lovingly stroking Schmooples as she read one of the books she stole—err, borrowed—from the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Morrigan’s nose was buried in the grimoire we took from Flemeth after she was slain. Sten was growling at Meatball. Meatball was growling back. Shale was eyeing up some of the crystals lodged into the nearest wall, no doubt trying to figure out which colors and configurations would make for the most flattering silhouette. Oghren, shocking as this may be, was drunk and working very hard to get more drunk. But there was no laughing. No teasing. Not even any arguing. Everyone just seemed… done. Checked out. Over it. I had to step up. I had to do something.

“Ahem.” I cleared my throat as I tried to figure out what I could possibly say to smooth things over. “I uh… I will not attempt to ruin this apology with an excuse. I am… profoundly sorry for my behavior these last few days. But I know one ‘sorry’ rings hollow when it’s just one word. One word against a thousand actions. ‘Sorry’ is useless, really. When someone does wrong, they should try to make amends. And I swear to each and every one of you, here and now, that I will fix this. You have my word. All of you… you’re all I have. And I know I wasn’t the person you needed me to be before. But I can be, if you’ll let me.”

Everyone just stared at me, not saying a word. Awesome. Not awkward at all. I try pouring my heart out and not one of them can be bothered to rescue me from the excruciating strained silence my own apology created? Throw me a bone here, guys!

“Sit down and eat something. You look as if a light wind could knock you over.” Morrigan broke the silence by extending her arm out and offering me one of the day’s rations, then immediately going back to her book. I walked toward her, grabbed the food, and meekly sat down, Alistair not leaving my side.

“Tell me, are caves notorious for being exceptionally windy?” Zevran teased.  

“Not compared to the vacuous breeze that flows between your ears, elf.” Morrigan zinged.

“Oooh touchy. Such sinister glares do you a disservice, dear Morrigan. Yours should be a face that smiles.”

“Do tell.” Morrigan took the bait.

“Has no one told you? Perhaps that is not surprising, considering you have lived such a sheltered life. Were you a woman of the city, you would be accustomed to men showering you with praise and gifts.” Zev complimented, clearly much to Leliana’s chagrin but she opted to keep her mouth shut. The scowl on her face said it all.

“I know as much of men as I need to. I know when one is indulging in pointless flattery, for instance.”

“It is flattery only if I exaggerate the truth to please you. I am but stating a simple fact.” Zevran cooed.

“Tell me, does this work on other women?” Morrigan asked incredulously.

“I think any woman would like to hear the truth of how her beauty affects a man, do you not?”

“Remind me to bring you along if we go sailing. The hot air will prove useful.”

“Wow, you managed to bring it right back to the wind thing. Color me impressed, Morrigan.” I smirked.

“Did someone say wind?” Oghren asked as he lifted his leg and let out a huge… well… you know what he did. I don’t have to spell it out, do I?

And despite it smelling worse than a Hurlock’s breath, we all started laughing. Like, a lot. We giggled and tittered and guffawed and chortled. And it was the sweetest music I’d heard in a long, long time. That sort of humor is not typically my cup of tea, don’t get me wrong, but it was just so good to have an outlet for all the shit we’d been handed lately.

But of course, all good things must come to an end. And end they did as soon as a rather disheveled female dwarf I could only assume was Branka walked up to our camp. Sigh. Just when things were finally looking up…


	43. A Paragon's Plight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Scarlett continues to make her way through the Deep Roads with renewed vigor, she comes to realize some rather ugly truths about Branka and the precious relic they so desperately seek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who takes the time to read, leave kudos, and comment. It really makes my day and keeps me going. Enjoy!

The dwarf was covered in dirt and dried blood (though apparently not her own, she had no visible wounds) and detritus and Maker knows what else—not wholly unlike yours truly—and I must admit, for someone who is so highly regarded in dwarven society and considered, for all intents and purposes, a living god, she seemed quite… plain. Mousey brown hair, unremarkable face, average height and weight for a dwarven woman. But as soon as she got close enough for me to meet her uninviting stare, I could see something… ominous. A frenzy was burning beneath two umber irises, some kind of madness the likes of which I had never before borne witness. But maybe I was overreacting. First impressions aren’t everything, right? 

“Well shave my back and call me an elf! BRANKA?! By the Stone, I barely recognized you!” Oghren practically squealed with excitement as he walked toward her. 

“Oghren.” Branka regarded her husband in a contralto tone entirely devoid of the other dwarf’s enthusiasm. “I thought it was your stench I smelled from so far off. It figures you’d eventually find your way here. Hopefully you can find your way back more easily.” 

Now standing by Oghren’s side, I looked at the ginger dwarf’s face as it fell ever so slightly. I was beginning to realize that Oghren puts on a good show, but if you look closely, it’s not too much of a strain to see cracks in the facade. He reminded me much of Zevran in that way. A personality carefully crafted to be impenetrable, with a certain… vulnerability hidden just beneath it. Before I had the chance to let my emotions get the better of me and attempt to comfort him, Branka turned her attention to me. 

“And how shall I address you?” She asked as her neck craned upwards to meet my eyes again, apparently not even remotely intimidated by the difference in our heights. “Hired sword of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or just the only one who didn’t mind Oghren’s ale-breath?”

I began to open my mouth to tell her off, but Oghren beat me to the punch. 

“Be respectful, woman! You’re talking to a Grey Warden!” the dwarf demanded in his usual gruff manner. 

“Ah, so an important errand boy, then. I suppose something serious has happened. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely. He was on the old and wheezy side.” 

My irritation at her rudeness aside, I had to hand it to her. She could put two and two together rather quickly. I rolled my shoulders, as though her insults were something I physically needed to shrug off before taking a deep breath to regain my patience. 

“Yes. Orzammar needs a new king. One who will aid us in defeating the Blight.” I explained.

“A king won’t defeat a Blight. We’ve had 40 generations of kings and lost everything. Frankly, I don’t care if the Assembly puts a golden monkey on the throne. Because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting!” 

“The Anvil.” I surmised. 

“It’s here.” Her eyes lit up with unbridled desire and avarice, her mouth almost salivating with each word, “so close I can taste it.” 

“Then why do you not possess it already?” Zev posed casually. I swear, that elf had such a knack for sticking his pointy nose where it didn’t belong.

“The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet.” 

I winced as soon as I heard the word “gauntlet.” I couldn’t help it. Bad memories of retrieving that blasted Urn. Alistair placed his hand on the small of my back, asking if I was alright without vocalizing a word. I gave him a slight nod as Branka continued. 

“Traps designed by Caridin himself. My people and I have given body and soul to unlock its secrets.” 

“Interesting that you stand before us unharmed and alone, if this was such a team effort.” I observed. Hespith’s words, they had not fallen on deaf ears, and I did not trust this Branka as far as I could throw her. But damn it all, we needed her. 

She just gave me a glare and didn’t dignify my observation with a response. 

_ “This _ is what’s important.  _ This _ has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics, all of that is transitory. I’ve given up everything and would sacrifice anything to get the Anvil of the Void.” She was almost panting now, eyes all aglow with the prospect of possessing the relic. Aaaand I was getting more and more creeped out by the minute. 

“I presume those sacrifices included Hespith and the others of your house.” Oh yeah, I was going there. Again. 

“Enough! If you wish me to get involved with this imbecilic election, I must first have the Anvil. There is only one way out, Warden. Forward. Through Caridin’s maze and out to where the Anvil awaits.” 

“What has this place done to you?!” Oghren cried. “I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance.” I could hear the heartbreak in his words, and I felt for him, I really did. Apparently, for Oghren, absence had truly made the heart grow fonder. For Branka, however... not so much. 

“I am your paragon.” She added flippantly. “Seeing as we need each other, Warden, I fully expect you to come when I call. Rest up. You’ll need it.” She ordered as she turned away and made her way back to her own camp, which I assumed was only a few paces away from ours. I balled up my fists and took a forceful step forward, ready to give the bitch a piece of my mind. Alistair took it upon himself to grab the tail of my shirt tightly to keep me from taking another step and saying something I’d regret. 

“This arrangement is only temporary, Scarlett. Let’s not throw everything away because of one woman’s discourtesy. We’ve been through too much down here to lose all our ground now.” He advised barely above a whisper. And although I was still quite perturbed, I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. He could really be quite wise, when he wanted to be. 

I relaxed and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “You’re right.” 

“Well, that’s a first. Do you think you could maybe write that statement down and get it notarized or something? Framed, maybe? This is surely an occasion to be commemorated.” He smirked. I playfully rolled my eyes and slipped my hand in his. “Let’s go to bed.” 

“Maker, are those words nice to hear.” His eyes were alight with restored peace and contentment. I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked back toward his tent. 

I heard Leliana let out a dreamy sigh. “Isn’t it lovely to see them together again?” 

“Yes, yes I suppose that is all well and good.” Zevran commented as he sat down beside Leliana. “And speaking of going to bed…” the elf scooched closer to her and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Oh, surely you wouldn’t want me for company. Perhaps the unrivaled beauty, Morrigan, could warm your bed for the evening. Tonight, I sleep alone.” Leliana glared at him as she crawled into her tent with Schmooples and forcefully closed the flap. 

Zev let out a heaving sigh before he fixed his gaze on Morrigan. I just shook my head. Sure, Zev. That’ll work out well for ya. 

“Well, what say you, my raven-haired beauty?” 

Morrigan rolled her eyes, a look of disgust curling her plum-painted lips. “You assassin types have a death wish, I see.” 

Zevran let out a slight chuckle at that one. “Only the really good ones.” 

After witnessing Morrigan shut him down so thoroughly, a slight smirk played across my face as I crawled into Alistair’s tent. I had positively dreaded going to sleep every night since we’d first arrived down here, knowing the nightmares that would soon overtake me. But somehow, knowing I’d be in his arms again, it made the prospect of dozing off much more bearable. 

I lay down on the rough fabric of my bedroll, scratchy wool and worn cotton irritating my skin. The unpleasantness melted away as soon as I felt Alistair’s body conform to my back, his warm forearm resting on my hip. I placed my arm atop his, laced his fingers and pulled him as close to me as I could. It wasn’t long before I could feel his… um… passion stirring. I just looked over my shoulder and gave him a slow, knowing smile. 

“Well, what do you expect?! I’m only human, Scarlett.” He blushed profusely. 

“Did I complain?” I asked teasingly. The blush slowly began to dissipate as I pulled him in for a goodnight kiss, a soft, slow brush of lips. 

“Goodnight, Alistair.” I whispered against his lips. “I love you.” 

“Goodnight, my love. I hope you have the sweetest of dreams.” He smiled as his nose rubbed against mine. 

The next thing I knew, I was out. Well, I guess I didn’t know. No one ever really knows that they’re asleep while they’re doing it, do they? Not until it’s too late. This time was no exception. The Broodmother decided to pay me a visit, all bloated and gray and rotten. Her hands were back around my throat, only there was no Alistair to save me this time. There was nothing but her freakish strength as she cut off my air supply, her boorish laugh as she watched the life drain from my bulging eyes. Each of her remaining tentacles grabbed my arms and legs and spread me out wide, just as the darkspawn had positioned Cailan’s corpse back at Ostagar. She used enough force that I could sense what was coming, but went slow enough that I could hear every pop of a joint, every break of a bone, every tear of my flesh. My only solace was that I would likely pass out from lack of oxygen before Mommy Dearest finished ripping me apart limb from limb. 

I awoke fighting for air, my hands immediately moving to my throat to pry her off me. Alistair shot up immediately at the sound of my desperate gasps. 

“Scarlett, what is it?! What’s wrong?!” His expression was fraught with worry as he looked around the tent in a panic, checking to make sure nothing was about to attack us. When he realized we were in no immediate danger, he gently started rubbing my back. 

“Steady your breaths, my love. There’s nothing here. Nothing is coming for us. You’re safe.” His words were soft, delicate and honey-toned. His hand continued caressing my back lovingly as he planted a kiss on my sweat-soaked temple. 

I managed to slow my breathing as I soon came to realize I was not about to be destroyed. I tried closing my eyes again, but all I kept seeing was her distorted, nightmarish face. Alistair moved to sit behind me and opened his arms wide before wrapping them around my torso, rocking me gently. 

“It was just a nightmare. You’re safe with me. I’m here.” He repeated again as he swayed with me, pausing for a moment before asking, “Do you… want to talk about it?” 

I shook my head vehemently as I buried my face in his chest and felt him run his fingers through my hair. No way was talking about it going to help—trying to recall and verbalize what I’d seen would probably just make things worse. I continued to try and further slow my breathing, drowning my senses in his familiar feel and scent. I felt myself beginning to doze off, only to see her horrid face haunting me yet again, my eyes snapping open just to chase her away. 

“I… I keep seeing her face.” I whispered as my eyes began to tear up, so desperate to close again. 

He just gave me a knowing nod as he held me tighter and rocked me slower. Then he began humming a familiar song. The lullaby I sang to him back in Haven when he was sick. The one my mother used to sing to me. I slowly breathed in his musk again, letting his baritone timbre lull me back to a feeling of security and calm. I’d only sung it to him once, and somehow, he remembered the tune completely. It was far from pitch perfect, but to me, it was the most mellifluous sound I’d ever heard—flawless in every way, because it was Alistair singing to me. I found myself smiling slightly as I melted into the comfort of him, and it wasn’t long before I fell back asleep. 

…

I awoke still in his arms, feeling almost fully rested for the first time since we came down to this Maker-forsaken hole. Alistair was already awake and planted the softest of kisses on my forehead when he saw my sand-dusted eyes looking up at him. 

“You’re so beautiful when you sleep.” He smiled as he ran the back of his hand down my now blushing cheek. “How do you feel?” 

“Better, thanks. I… I’m sorry I woke you last night.” 

He pinched my cheek slightly. “You know you never have to be sorry for that.” 

“Thank you. For being there for me. It means… well, everything.” I gave him a grateful smile before hugging him tight. 

“I told you I’ll always be here. As long as you’ll have me.” He vowed as he hugged me back. 

“Really? I haven’t managed to scare you off yet?” I smirked playfully as I slowly pulled away and met his eyes again. 

“Bah, it’ll take more than a few nightmares to run me off. If the day ever comes when you’re lactose intolerant, however… well, that might be a deal breaker.” He grinned. 

“Will the day ever come when your love for me surpasses your love of cheese?” I asked with an arched brow. 

“Hmm… How  _ gouda  _ you to ask. Time will tell. ” 

“You’re an inhuman  _ muenster,  _ toying with my emotions in such a way.” I pouted.

“You have gotta  _ brie _ kidding me.” 

I let out a sigh. “Well, despite it sounding rather  _ cheesy, _ I think you’re  _ grate. _ ” 

He let out a light chuckle before pulling me in for a big kiss. “Maker’s breath I love you.” 

I smiled against his lips. “I love you, too. And puns. Maker, do I love puns.” 

“I love them, too. You’re not  _ provolone. _ ” 

“...That one was a a bit of a  stretch, darling.” I teased. 

“Yeah, I know. We already used all the good ones.” His grin widened before he stole another quick kiss. “Welp, I suppose we should get up and face the day and get that Anvil, right? I don’t know about you, but I’m rather eager to get out of here.” 

“Oh, really? That’s a pity. I thought we might look into purchasing a charming vacation home down here that we may visit during the summer months, I just love it so.” I rolled my eyes as I heard him stifle a laugh and let out a contented sigh. 

“Have I told you how happy I am to have you back?” He beamed. 

I gave him a bright smile and a peck on the lips as I tried my best to muster up what little courage I had left to face this so-called “gauntlet.” 

I crawled out of the tent and rubbed the sleep from my eyes as Morrigan offered me the morning’s rations of dried fruit and some sort of salted meat, which I gobbled up happily. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. Oh yeah, I guess because I hadn’t, really. Funny, that. 

“Unless my eyes deceive me, I daresay it looks almost healthy again.” Shale observed as it looked me up and down. 

“Aww, Shale, you sure know how to flatter a girl.” I smirked. 

“It never fails to amaze me just how fragile you flesh-creatures are. A few days without food or sleep and it just ceases to function. I don’t know how it can stand it.” 

“It’s not so bad, really.” I shrugged as I continued devouring breakfast. 

The golem let out a sigh. “I have watched a lot of humans in my time. Despite all its… weakness, it should be aware that I have decided that it is… not much like any of them.” 

“I’m… not sure how to take that.” I arched a brow at the golem. 

“I am sure it does not come as news that this crusade is hopeless. Its chances of success are remarkably slim, yet it persists. And not only does it persist, it rallies others to its impossible cause and inspires them to follow wherever it leads. Surely it must come from some superior lineage, yes? Some breed of flesh creature that had decided to elevate its genetic stock above its natural shortcomings?” 

“Uh… well, my father was the Teyrn of Highever. Not that I expect that to matter to you in the slightest, but...” 

“Oh… then that must be it. I knew there had to be some reason, it being a human and all.” The golem lowered its voice as it went on, “I would appreciate if it didn’t spread around that I said anything. Humans might start to get the wrong idea. They might start thinking their race is not completely hopeless.” 

I leaned over to the golem, my tone deathly serious as I looked around to make sure the coast was clear. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

The golem just shook its head. “Surely not.” 

“It’ll be our little secret. Thanks, Shale.” I smiled up at the huge stone creature. 

“It is welcome. Now, let us crush something into a fine paste before it starts to think I’ve gone all soft. Perish the thought!” 

I grabbed a full canteen and my bar of soap, went back to the somewhat secluded area where Alistair and I talked, and washed up as best I could. I know it might have been a waste of time, but I didn’t care. I was sick to death of feeling so utterly repellent and there was something about getting clean that made me feel stronger—like a new person. Although it certainly wasn’t ideal, I did manage to get most of the darkspawn blood and rot off of me and I soon felt like a human being again (Shale would no doubt greatly disapprove.) I put on a not entirely clean, but certainly less disgusting set of clothes and was ready to face whatever that gauntlet was going to throw at me, or so I tried to convince myself. 

“Well don’t you shine up like a new bronze coin.” Oghren smacked his lips as he watched me braid my hair and continue my walk back toward the rest of the group. 

“Er… thanks. I think.” 

“Ever the lech. Some things never change.” Branka rolled her eyes as she walked back up to the camp as well. “It’s time. Follow me, Warden.” 

“Good morning to you, too.” I grumbled before I turned back to the others to make sure we were ready to move. The fire was doused, the tents were packed, and everyone seemed ready to go. Huh… was no one else dreading this as much as I was? 

“Heh. Good ol’ Branka. She’s a bit uh, abrasive, isn’t she? Guess I forgot that part about her screeching in my ear every sodding day. Ah well. We’ll help her get the Anvil, and then she’ll come home and everything will be better.” Oghren mused. I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise, so I just started walking. 

Branka led us down another stone passageway and it wasn’t long before I started seeing corpses littering the ground. Not just darkspawn. Dwarves, too. And lots of them. What. the. Fuck. 

“I needed people to test Caridin’s traps. There is no way to break through except by trial and error. I sent them in…” 

I just glared at her, my mouth slightly agape with shock and disgust. 

“Don’t you dare look at me like that, Warden. They were all mine, pledged to be my house, and they didn’t want to help. They tried to leave me, even my Hespith…” The dwarf did sound pained at the mention of her lover’s name, but it soon passed and gave way to that same hunger and greed that presented itself whenever Branka spoke of the Anvil. “Even she couldn’t understand that when you reach for greatness, there are sacrifices. As many sacrifices as are needed.” 

Before I had the chance to tell her that she’s completely batshit insane. We were attacked by, you guessed it, more darkspawn. 

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when I was happy to fight your average, run-of-the-mill darkspawn.” Alistair offered as he drove his sword through the belly of a Genlock. 

“Would it not be even better to have no darkspawn at all?” Zev asked as he sunk his daggers into another one. 

“Well duh. But I mean, in the grand scheme of darkspawn, compared to what we fought yesterday? These guys are a piece of cake.” 

“Ever the optimist.” I smirked before decapitating a Hurlock. Ahh. There was something so utterly satisfying about taking one of their heads clean off mid-maniacal laugh. 10/10, would recommend. After it was slain, my gaze fell to Branka, who was merely standing off to the side as we did all of her dirty work. I don’t know how much of my tongue was left to bite. Breathe, Scarlett. Eye on the prize. Get the Anvil, get the fuck out of here, and crown a king. Simple enough. 

When we finished the last of them off, Branka decided to just dive right back into her former conversation, as though nothing at all had occurred. Must be nice. 

“She shouldn’t have gone. She was pledged to me. She swore she’d do whatever it took to find the Anvil. There was no other choice. Most of them were dying of the taint already, but some… some of the women were… transforming.”

I shook my head. “If only you knew what they would become, you would never—”

“Oh, I knew what they would become, Warden. There would be an endless supply of darkspawn to test the traps. They could still serve me, let me find the Anvil. It was the only way…” 

I stared at her in horror, no longer able to keep my mouth shut. “You… knew? And you still let them… those poor women… you watched them eat their kin… you watched Laryn turn into that… that… that creature?! You’re a monster!” My voice shook as I continued to glare at the dwarf, my initial disbelief souring to unabashed disdain. 

“No, I’m a paragon. And I will be the savior of all Orzammar, no matter the cost.” She deliberately bumped her shoulder against my hip hard as she passed and continued leading the way forward. Maker forgive me, but I still followed. What choice did I have? 

After a few paces she stopped in front of a seemingly locked room and turned to face the rest of us. 

“They say your order is renowned for its wits as well as its braun.” She taunted as she inserted a key and began pushing the door open and stepping aside to let us through. I didn’t like the sound of that at all, but what else could we do? The only way out was forward, as Branka so enjoyed pointing out at every turn. We filed into the seemingly innocuous room one by one and she spoke again as she lingered in the doorway. “Perhaps you’ll do better than my poor clansmen.” And with that, she locked the door behind her. And it wasn’t long before the room began to fill with some kind of… poisonous gas. And the statues lining the walls, which I naively thought were just there for decoration, came to life and started attacking us. Fuck. 

I looked around the room as quickly as I could for an escape. There was nothing. No vents, no windows, no doors. It didn’t take long for Leliana to pass out, waifish thing that she is. Wynne immediately went over to check on her and got Leliana and herself out of harm’s way before the golems managed to pulverize them. I guess they were okay for now. I had to focus my attention on clearing the room. And fast. 

Think, Scarlett, think. I ran further into the chamber, narrowly avoiding the crushing blows of the golems as my eyes finally found something useful, or so I hoped. I spied two levers along the left wall. I grabbed one and began turning it, hoping beyond hope it would have some sort of impact. Then I did the same to the other. I wasn’t entirely sure, but it looked like the dense fog was beginning to dissipate. More, there had to be more. 

“Oghren!” I shouted to the dwarf far on the other side of the chamber. “Do you see anything over there? A wooden lever?” I had a bad coughing fit as soon as the last word left my mouth. 

He took a big swipe at the closest golem with his ax before shouting back, “I see two of ‘em! Why?!” 

“Turn it! Morrigan, take the other one!” I ordered as I jumped back into the fray. Only it was too late. Morrigan was on the ground now, too, joining Leliana. Ugh. Maker love them. They are both so beautiful and slender and petite, but in situations like this, it pays to be a bit more... solid, if you ask this sturdy gal’s opinion. Oh, sod it! I ran over there as fast as I could and took care of the last lever while watching the room clear out. 

I breathed a sigh of relief once the air was completely safe again. “Great! Hard part’s over.” 

“Uh, Scarlett? Four giant rock monsters. Still trying to trample us to death.” Alistair reminded me as he rolled to evade the blow of the one nearest him. 

“Oh. Right. Wynne, are they—” I asked as I looked down at Morrigan and Leliana, lying prone on the cold ground. 

“I checked. They’re breathing. Just passed out, it seems.” Wynne assured me as she cast an attack at the same golem who tried to hit Alistair. 

“Splendid!” I shouted as I drove my sword through the nearest golem’s midsection with all my might before retreating back to a safe distance. Now that we had as much time as we needed, I figured that was the best way to handle something more than twice my size: Get in, do some damage, get the fuck out before it kicks my shit in. Solid plan, right? 

Eventually our collective efforts wore them down and the room was cleared. Alistair put his hands on his knees and bent over to catch his breath. “Maker, if I ever see another golem again it’ll be too soon.” 

“I am standing right here.” Shale grumbled. 

Zevran looked the golem up and down as I went over to help Wynne with Morrigan and Leliana. 

“Hmm, I’ve a question for you, Shale. How does it feel to be a giant statue?” Zev inquired. 

“What a bizarre question. How else would it feel?” Shale replied. 

“Well, let’s see. Does it hurt? Do you feel like you’ve been buried under a pile of rock? Or do you feel nothing at all?” 

“I have nothing to compare it to. How does it feel to be considered an inferior race when compared to others who are just as soft and weak as you?” Ouch, Shale. Ouch. 

“Ah… fine?” 

“How very fragile it must be. One touch and its kind crumples, spilling liquid everywhere. No wonder they clad themselves in metal.” 

“It takes more than just a touch, I’m sure…” Zevran defended. 

“I feel very solid. And immortal. No putrid liquids squirt out of me, oh no.” Shale looked as though it were puffing up its chest in pride. 

“Hmm… now that you mention it, I… I suddenly rather feel like a rather delicate mushroom…” 

“Well, I’ve always thought you were a  _ fun guy… _ ” I quipped once we got Leliana and Morrigan back on their feet. Nothing. Just blank stares. “Oh, come on! Fun guy… fungi… mushrooms?” I asked in a desperate attempt to salvage the joke. 

“You’ve sunk to a new low, my love.” Alistair grinned. “Give them some time. Perhaps it will grow on them.” He winked. 

I let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. Let’s press on.” I suggested as I led the way through the only exit the room offered. 

“Oh, I’m fine by the way.” Leliana glared at Zevran. “Thanks for asking.” 

“Please, it would take more than some green smoke to take a formidable woman such as yourself down. I wasn’t worried for a moment.” Zevran reached for her hand and attempted to bring it to his lips for a kiss before she snatched it away. 

“I have offended you?” the elf asked. “Is calling a woman formidable some manner of slight now?” 

“Sometimes it’s nice to know someone is worried about you. It’s what you do when you care about someone.” Leliana pouted. 

“You told me, in no uncertain terms, that what we have is… er… what was the phrase you used? ‘Emotionless pelvic affiliation’?”

I had to cover my mouth to keep myself from giggling aloud, though a few definitely managed to slip out. Honestly, it sounded like a phrase I’d come up with. I was almost proud. 

“So?” Leliana asked, completely missing the point. 

“So, here is another phrase: You cannot have your cake and it eat, too.” Zevran argued. 

Oooh this was getting good. Was this what it was like when Alistair and I argued in front of everyone? I felt like I should grab popcorn. 

Leliana’s jaw dropped and she was clearly offended, though I’m not entirely sure she was fully comprehending what Zev was driving at. She was still getting a feel for all of this stuff after being locked away in that cloister for so long. If she said all she wanted from Zevran was banal sexual gratification, she could not complain when he didn’t treat her like a true lover and emotionally kept his distance. It was proving to be a tough line to walk, it seemed. 

“I see a trap.” Leliana stated as she pointed to a well-disguised tripwire spanning the width of the next room. 

“Yes, I’m beginning to see one as well.” Zevran remarked dryly. 

Leliana just rolled her eyes and moved to disarm it. It did not escape my attention that this room was also lined with statues, likely not there just to spice up the decor. I kept my sword at the ready, but figured that Leliana disarming the traps before we fell prey to them would keep the golems dormant. 

I figured wrong. 

They attacked. All sodding dozen of them. How is that even remotely fair? There was no puzzle! No logic! No solution! You enter the room, the golems attack no matter what. Bull. Shit. They even resorted to breaking off pieces of their stone bodies and hurling them at us. That didn’t tickle, let me tell ya. I swear, before we managed to escape that horrid place I was more bruise than person. Shale and Sten proved to be invaluable in the fight. When in doubt, fight fire with fire. Or, in our case, fight giants with giants. The rest of us pitched in where we could, of course. Alistair could hit like a ballista if he found the right momentum and held his shield at the right angle. Oghren could hit pretty damn hard, too. When I had time, I could usually assess and spot a foe’s weak point relatively quickly, and knew to focus my attacks so they hit riiiiight where it really hurts. Morrigan and Wynne played their parts, too. Spells are always useful, even against giant rock creatures. Leliana and Zev, well, they did their best, Maker bless them. But still, most valuable players this round? Sten and Shale all the way. 

Moving right along, we entered a new room. And were greeted by another statue, but this one was not like the others. It was comprised of… faces. One on each side, totaling four, and had four anvils surrounding it to match. I really couldn’t tell if their sculpted expressions were laughing or weeping. Weird. As I drew closer, the sculpture rotated on its own. Weirder. Then, somehow, it managed to spit out four dwarven spirits and its eyes started glowing like they were made of lightning. Weirdest. 

This fight, as it turns out, did take a bit of cunning. It only took us, oh, about five fuckups before we figured out the pattern. ...What? The last room spelled certain doom no matter what, but I was supposed to treat this room differently? Psh. It wasn’t even an especially intricate pattern. Statue spits out spirit. We kill spirit standing in front of anvil. We activate said anvil. Anvil shoots statue square in the eyes and makes it weep rocks… or something. Don’t look at me—I didn’t come up with it. If Caridin weren’t long dead, I’d suggest you take it up with him. 

After doing that, oh... roughly eleventy bazillion more times, the sculpture was finally rendered inert and we had ourselves an exit. Bully for us! 

We entered the new area, cavernous and vast, the walkway lined with many, many golems. One stood out from the rest as we approached, a veritable iron giant who, much to my surprise, spoke to us in a tinny, booming voice. 

So, remember what I said a few lines ago about Caridin being dead? Forget all that. 

“I am Caridin.” Told ya. 

“Caridin?” Shale asked. “The paragon smith? Alive?” 

“Ah, there is a voice I recognize.” Caridin’s metallic voice reverberated beneath a shroud of hardware. “Shale, of the house of Kadash, step forward.” 

The golem did as the other golem requested. 

“You know my name? Is it you who forged me, then? Is it you who gave me my name?” 

“Have you forgotten, then? Ah, it has been so long. I made you into the golem you are now, Shale, but before that you were a dwarf, just as I was. The finest warrior to serve King Valtor, and the only woman to volunteer.” 

It just so happens that I was mighty thirsty while all of this was going on. And, of course, I was mid-swig when Caridin dropped that little revelation on us. I did a spit take immediately. Shale was… is… a woman?! Whoa… Mind. Blown. 

Caridin went on to explain how he made Shale in that very room using the Anvil—ya know, the one we’d slain countless golems and darkspawn and spirits and put up with all manner of bullshit to obtain. Caridin told us his story—how he used the Anvil to give his king the stone army he sought by animating the creatures using the lives of dwarves. At first he used only volunteers, but of course, that soon wasn’t enough. The king eventually demanded more golems be made, whether the subject was willing or not. Caridin refused, and the king forced him to become a golem himself. Tragic, that. 

“My apprentices knew enough to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind. You were once the most loyal, Shale. You remained at my side throughout. And at the end, I sent you away out of mercy.”

“I… do not remember.” Shale admitted, almost shamefully, as though she (weird, huh?) were trying desperately to search the catacombs of her mind for any fragment of memory she could. 

“We have remained entombed here ever since, and I have sought a way to destroy the Anvil. Alas, I cannot do it myself. No golem can touch it.”

Then, right on cue, guess who came walking up? 

“No! The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!” Branka shrieked. 

“Shale, you fought to destroy the Anvil once. Do not allow it to fall into unthinking hands again!” Caridin pleaded with the other golem. “You!” Caridin looked back at me, “Please, help me destroy the Anvil! Do not let it enslave more souls than it already has!” 

“Don’t listen!” Branka shouted. “He’s been trapped here for a thousand years stewing in his own madness. Help me claim the Anvil, and you will have an army like you’ve never seen!” 

Oh boy. Decisions, decisions… 


	44. Burden of Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> After finding the Anvil and hearing both Caridin and Branka plead their cases, Scarlett is faced with a string of really tough decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to leave comments and kudos. I appreciate and reply to every single one. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I looked at the frenzied dwarf, her eyes ablaze with desire and voracity as she spied the object of her obsession off in the distance. I looked back at Caridin with his head hung low and hulking body stock-still and tense with apprehension. Shale was standing defensively in front of the other golem, more or less daring me to go against Caridin’s wishes. “Try it, Warden. See what happens,” she said without saying a word. Message received, Shale. Loud and clear. Then I looked at Oghren, who I could tell was still toying with the idea of leaving the rest of us and going to join his estranged wife, regardless of the villain she’d become.

What a bloody mess.

The anvil, though I’m sure it was made with good intentions, was obviously treacherous when it fell into the wrong hands. I mean, treacherous was probably underselling it, really. It literally sucked the lifeforce from living beings and created mindless rock monsters to take their place. I could see why Caridin wanted it destroyed. I could hear the sorrow and regret in his words as he pleaded with me, feel the guilt he’s carried around with him for centuries for ever introducing such an instrument of destruction.

On the other hand…

An army of golems could come in really, REALLY handy in our fight against the darkspawn. We could probably end the Blight tomorrow with a force that formidable. But Branka… she’d lost her mind. Call it a hunch, but something told me she wouldn’t wait around for volunteers as Caridin had initially intended. Branka had developed an unparalleled lust for power, and she’d made it abundantly clear that nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, would stand in her way. If she got her hands on the Anvil, there’s not a doubt in my mind that she would rule with an iron fist—no pun intended. No way could I turn the Anvil over to her in good conscience.

“My patience grows thin, Warden. Make your choice.” Branka snarled.

“Branka! You mad, bleeding nugtail!” Oghren cried. “Does this thing mean so much to you that you can’t even see what you’ve lost to get it?!”

“Look around, you fool. Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume?! The Anvil will let us take back our glory!” Branka decried.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mighty tempted to keep it—to get my very own impenetrable army made of stone, to throw caution to the wind and take the easy way out for once. I tried weighing the pros and cons, tried looking at the whole mess logically. But the deeper I looked at the dilemma, the more complex it became. No matter which path I took, I was going to lose. When that final battle comes, when I see countless allies getting slaughtered, I’ll know in the back of my mind that I could have perhaps spared the many by sacrificing the few. But a piece of me would die with each new golem that was made, knowing that I had a hand in their dark fate, that I just stood idly by and allowed it to happen. And what happens when the Blight ends? Will Branka just... stop making them? Will we all hold hands and put the whole ugly business behind us? Fat fucking chance. And as an added bonus, I had the sneaking suspicion that either choice I made, I was going to piss people off.

GRRRR!!!

Alistair drew closer to me and placed his hand gently on my shoulder, somehow sensing my burden of choice. I met his eyes and he shook his head ever so slightly, fully but subtly expressing that I was mad for even entertaining the notion of not doing the right thing here.

I took a deep breath before revealing my chosen intent. “The Anvil enslaves living souls. It must be destroyed.”

“So it fights with Caridin? Good. That seems right.” Shale assented.

“Have you no desire to discover this Anvil’s potential? It is a marvel. A tool of creation. You could rival the Maker himself with this instrument! If you destroy the Anvil I swear you will regret it.” Morrigan chimed in, yet again taking the pragmatic approach while giving virtually no regard to the moral implications. Shocking.  

Zevran also decided to add his two cents. “Living souls suffer all the time. Peasants working the land are trapped, but we do not go about destroying farmland, do we? It just seems… a waste to destroy the Anvil, given what it could do.”

You know what? Fine. Let’s give them a taste of their own medicine.

“You’re right.” I agreed as Morrigan’s and Zev’s eyebrows raised simultaneously.

“We… we are?” Zev asked.

“They are?!” Alistair, Wynne, and Leliana asked more forcefully in unison.

“Yep. We’d be fools to waste this opportunity. Morrigan, Zev, since you’ve both shown me the error of my ways, I guess that means we have our first volunteers, right?” I asked.

No reply. Just wide eyes and drooping mouths.

“I’ll take that stunned silence as a yes. Wonderful! Two brand-spanking-new golems, coming right up!”

Morrigan let out an audible gasp. “You would not dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” I grinned icily.

“Now, now. Let us not be unreasonable. You wouldn’t do that, surely.” Zevran said the words, but his voice was shaking, clearly just the slightest bit unsure that I wouldn’t make good on my word.

“I would rather not find out. Fine. Destroy it if it pleases you.” Morrigan assented. Zev nodded along, too. Great. Point for me.

“Thank you, stranger. Your compassion shames me.” Caridin’s deep, metallic voice somehow sounded lighter, less bogged down. And just like that, I knew I’d made the right choice.

“NOOO YOU WILL NOT TAKE IT! NOT WHILE I STILL LIVE!” Branka shrieked as her face turned fire red with unbridled anger.

“Branka, don’t throw your life away for this!” Oghren pleaded before turning to me, tears glittering in his dark cerulean eyes but never falling, “Just give her the blasted thing. She’s… she’s confused. Maybe once she calms down we can talk to her…”

“I’m sorry, Oghren, I really am. But after all we’ve seen down here, after all we know she’s done… She’s too far gone, my friend. She’s beyond redemption. And you know that, deep down. You have to.”

He hung his head and tightly gripped the hilt of his ax, resigning himself to the fact that there was no saving her. And all the warm and fuzzy feelings that came along with taking the highroad flew right out the blasted window. Fuck.

“Screw you, Warden. And you—you’re not the only master smith here, Caridin!” Branka cried. “Golems, obey me! ATTACK!!!”

And attack they did. A… gaggle(?) of them. A swarm? A flock? I’m not sure of the correct collective term to describe a group of golems, but believe you me—there were a lot of them. So many, in fact, that our own two giants, Shale and Sten, along with the rest of us, were proving to be virtually no match against their numbers. Okay, now I was starting to feel a little worried.

Lucky for us, Caridin was in our corner, and he managed to wrestle some control back from Branka and turn a few of the hostile golems over to our side. Hooray!

The creatures were huge and, as I’m sure you can imagine, they packed a heck of a wallop, but Andraste’s blood were they slow. Now, I’ll grant, I’m not the lightest on my feet—especially when compared to Leliana and Zev—but I was sure as shit fast enough to evade their lumbering advances. So, that’s what I did. I kept my distance, I kept moving, and I landed a blow whenever the opportunity presented itself.

It wasn’t long, however, before I spied Branka making a beeline straight for the Anvil while the rest of us were distracted. Oh. fuck. no.

Although she was a considerable distance ahead of me, my long legs came in handy and I caught up with little effort. My sword was drawn, the blade still stained black with darkspawn rot and encrusted in rubble and golem remnants.

“Stop right there or I swear to the Maker I will end you!” I ordered as I stood between her and the relic.

Branka just laughed. Damn. Guess I wasn’t as intimidating as I thought.

“Oh please. What are you going to do? Kill me? You who is so good and virtuous and above it all?” she spat.

“Don’t. Tempt. Me.” I growled through gritted teeth.

“Last chance, Warden. It’s only a few feet away. We can take it and be gone from this place and defeat the darkspawn once and for all. Just think of it: Absolute control. Absolute power. All within my grasp.”

I just shook my head, and, me being me, I recited a quote from one of my beloved books. (I know, I know. I just couldn’t help myself):

“Power isn’t control at all—power is strength, and giving that strength to others. A leader isn’t someone who forces others to make her stronger; a leader is someone willing to give her strength to others that they may have the strength to stand on their own.”

“Spare me your useless platitudes.” she rolled her eyes. “So be it. If you’re not with me, you’re against me. I’ll try to make your death quick.”

She lifted her sword to strike me, but before she drew her next breath I thrust my sword forward as quickly as I could and drove the tip of it right through her stomach.

“Don’t do me any favors.” I uttered as she cried out in pain.

The sword wasn’t sunk deep enough to kill her, not yet. And to be honest, I didn’t entirely want to kill her. For Oghren’s sake, I hoped that whoever she used to be was still in there somewhere. What can I say? I’d grown rather fond of the little drunkard.

“Maker’s sake Branka, open your eyes! Hespith, she tried to tell you. Tried to make you see reason. The Anvil is an abomination!”

She shook her head emphatically, still stuck by my blade, before shouting “No!” and raising her sword again to give me a nice, deep slice across my forearm. Ouch. As a purely reactionary measure, I sunk the sword in a little deeper and she shrieked.

“Stand down, Branka, or I’ll finish the job!” I shouted as I noticed Oghren rushing to join us, likely very concerned about the savage noises now spouting from his wife.

“Do it, Warden.” she gurgled a little as the blood began to flow from her mouth. “End my suffering,” She bade before looking Oghren right in the eyes before saying her last. “I’ve nothing to live for anymore. You’ve stolen it from me.”

“Oghren…” I began, not even remotely sure of how to finish. What was there to say? For some Maker-forsaken reason he loved this woman, and there she was, staring into her husband’s eyes and begging for death because I was denying her a fucking piece of metal. That… had to hurt.

Before he could respond, Branka placed her hands around my blade and swiftly pulled the sword even deeper into her body, the gurgling becoming far worse, the blood dribbling in a crimson river down her chin and pooling around her wound before she fell to the ground with an audible thud.

“Stubborn to the last.” Oghren groaned barely above a whisper. “Go. Help them finish this, Warden. I’ll keep an eye on that thing.” He gestured toward the Anvil. I pulled my sword out of his wife’s body, gently placed my hand on his shoulder—small consolation, I know—and left to do whatever needed to be done to bring this horror of a quest to a long-overdue end.

By the time I rejoined the rest of my companions, the bulk of the work was done. Most of the golems—or pieces of them—were strewn across the floor, inanimate and solitary. I did what little I could to finish them off, but the ones who remained lost most of their drive to attack us. It was as if when Branka fell, the head of the snake had been chopped off.

When the fighting completely subsided, I walked back over to Caridin to see what could possibly be salvaged from this totally botched crusade.

“Another life lost because of my invention. I wish no mention of it had made it into history.” The golem said solemnly as he looked down at Branka’s lifeless body.

“Yeah, you ain’t kiddin’. Stupid woman. Always knew the Anvil would kill her.” Oghren groaned.

“All of this… this is my doing. My legacy. But at least it ends here. I thank you for standing with me, stranger. The Anvil waits there for you to shatter it. But before you do, is there any boon I can grant you for your aid? A final favor before I am released from my burden?” Caridin asked.

I looked at the little ginger dwarf who was seemingly unable to take his eyes off his now lost former love, and my heart broke for him.

“Oghren… you’ve lost a lot here today. Is there anything you want?”

“Er… I don’t suppose you could bring Branka back… Maybe make her a golem like you?” He asked of Caridin.

“I would not do such a thing to her, even if I could.” Caridin replied.

“Somehow I didn’t think so.” Oghren sighed. “Then I don’t want anything that would remind me of... this. Best it’s just done.”

He paused before continuing.

“There is still the matter of the election. I mean… we still need a Paragon to get the support of the Assembly, right?”

“For the aid you’ve given me, I shall put hammer to steel one last time, and give you a crown for the king of your choice.”

And with that, the master smith left us to do what he does best. It took some time, but the end product was very much worth the wait. It was magnificent. Flawless. Solid gold molded and shaped with the hallmarks of Orzammar at the core of its design, all jagged and angular and perfect in its symmetry. I’d have to keep an eye on it. Zev was practically salivating.

“It is done. Give it to whom you will. I do not wish to hear their names, nor anything more of them. I have already lived far beyond my time. I have no place here.” Caridin explained as he handed me the crown. I gave it to Alistair for safe keeping.

“I will destroy the Anvil, as I promised.” I vowed as I made my way over to the relic.

It was a thing of beauty. Glowing blue with the lyrium that infused it, all shiny and smooth and not showing even the slightest hint of its age. I couldn’t be entirely sure, but as I approached it I thought I heard voices—voices that were much different from the hum of the darkspawn still buzzing in my skull. Perhaps it was the sound of the souls trapped within. Perhaps it was my imagination. Neither would have surprised me. I grabbed the gargantuan hammer that was lying beside the Anvil, lifted it with both hands as high above my head as I could, and brought it down with everything I had. Much to my surprise, my strength was enough to break it apart. I’m going to go ahead and chalk that up to magic; I had grown pretty strong from all of my really-big-sword-wielding lately, but I wasn’t _that_ strong.

Caridin walked up to examine the remains of his work and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing it was reduced to nothing but metallic shards.

“You have my eternal thanks, stranger. Atrast nal tunsha… may you always find your way in the dark.”

Those were Caridin’s last words before he leapt off the nearby cliff and was engulfed by the liquid magma flowing down below. I was sad to see him go, but also sort of glad. Maybe, at last, he could find some peace.

Oghren walked up to stand beside me, his gaze falling to the lava river at the base of the cliffs.

“Warden? Would you uh… help me?”

“...With what?”

“I uh, I don’t want to just leave her here… like this…”

“Oh.” I replied as soon as I got his meaning. “Of course.”

We went over to Branka’s body, I grabbed her arms, Oghren grabbed her legs, and we tossed her over the cliff’s edge as reverently as such an action would allow.

“Well, that pretty much beat the snot out of how I imagined it.” the dwarf sighed.

“How did you imagine it would go, exactly?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s stupid, really. I guess I was thinking maybe she’d let the blasted thing go and we’d go home and she’d make me a nice big pot of nug stew and we’d spend the night and all the nights after that drinking ale and making accidental babies.”

“So sentimental.” I smirked in my feeble attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m sorry things turned out this way, Oghren. I tried to—”

“I know, Warden. I know.” He said softly as he stared down at the spot where Branka’s body landed, though nothing of it remained. “You ready to head back?”

“Maker, yes. It’s high time we all awoke from this nightmare.”

…

It took us another several days to make it back to Orzammar’s gates. I had to stop myself from kissing the ground once we were officially out of the tunnels. I was dying to be outside, to breathe some fresh air, but I couldn’t leave the job half done. Orzammar still needed a king, and lucky me, I had to choose one.

We entered the halls of the Assembly and I’m sure we were a sight: covered in dirt from head to toe, all scuffed up, our wounds scabbed over, our bruises black, our armor punctured and dented. I was beyond caring. I just wanted it to finally be over.

We were announced and stood there in the middle of the chamber, all eyes on us.

“Well, Warden. What news do you bring?” Bhelen asked, suddenly quite chipper in his demeanor.

“I bring a crown, forged by the Paragon Caridin himself.” I explained plainly. Yeah, I confess. A showman I am not. Luckily, Oghren was there to spice the story up a little.

“Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem,” the dwarf elaborated. “This Warden granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void. Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar’s next king, chosen by the ancestors themselves!” Oghren lifted the crown in my hands as the crowd gasped and “ooh”ed and “ahh”ed.

“Let me examine this crown.” The Lord Steward demanded. I brought it up to him so he could inspect it and confirm we weren’t completely full of shit. “This crown is of Paragon make, and bears House Ortan’s ancient seal. Tell us, Warden. Whom did Caridin choose?”

“He wished me to give it to whomever I choose.” I answered honestly. In hindsight it probably would have been easier to lie and say Caridin himself chose the successor, but I was fresh out of clever ideas at this point.

Harrowmont was none too pleased. Word must have gotten out that I’d switched sides. Oh goody.

“Why would a Paragon trust someone who knows nothing of us with such a decision?! This is preposterous!” Harrowmont contended.

“We’ve argued in these chambers for too long,” the Lord Steward interrupted. “The will of the Paragon is that the Grey Warden decide.”

I didn’t want to do this—to make such a monumental decision for a country that wasn’t even mine and would affect its citizens for decades to come. I took a hard look at Harrowmont, who was trying hard to keep his cool but I could see the anger radiating off of him, turning his ears bright red. I understood. I was deceitful, wily. I’d done him wrong. And he seemed a good man. He was just so damn… flimsy. Then I looked at Bhelen, who was wearing a smug smile and had his arms folded expectantly across his chest as he tapped his foot. I knew he was the stronger candidate, but I just couldn’t bring myself to like him. Things would be so much easier if I did. Sigh.

I found myself doing it again. I stared at Harrowmont. Then Bhelen. I thought I was so sure, but now…

Alistair subtly took my hand and squeezed gently, his thumb stroking the back of it, giving me all the strength and conviction I was currently lacking. I inhaled, then exhaled, then inhaled again before blurting out, “I grant the crown to Bhelen.”

“At last, this farce has ended and I can take my rightful place on my father’s throne.” Bhelen declared, clearly pleased with both himself and the outcome. He approached the Lord Steward and bowed his head as the crown was gingerly placed upon it.

“Let the memories find you worthy, first amidst the lord of the houses, the king of Orzammar.” The Lord Steward decreed.

It was the simplest, most unceremonious coronation I had ever witnessed—not that I’ve witnessed a ton. It just felt… bizarre. All that work, all that squabbling and bloodshed, and it was all done with the placement of a gold hat and the utterance of a single sentence. It all just seemed so… anticlimactic.

Bhelen’s first act as king was to turn around and confront Harrowmont. And I had a most uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Do you acknowledge me as king?” he asked.

“I… cannot defy a paragon. The throne is yours… King Bhelen.” Harrowmont answered as he took a knee to show his fealty.

“Then as my first act as king, I call for this man’s execution! Guards, seize him!” Bhelan demanded.

FUCK!

“I thought I crowned a king, Bhelen. Not a fucking tyrant.” I hissed at the newly crowned king.  

“You know better than anyone the war facing us. Orzammar cannot afford to be divided. I will return to my palace to gather my generals and prepare our forces for the surface. I will see you there, Warden. You have my gratitude for all you have done for me, and for Orzammar.”

Much to my dismay, I couldn’t argue his point. Orzammar needed to be united under one banner, and with Harrowmont around, well, it would likely lead to a whole lot of dissension, probably even a civil war. So, as much as I liked Harrowmont and felt guilty about the role I played in his fallen fortune, I had to let it go.

I gave Bhelen a solemn nod as he took his leave. Everyone else in the Assembly followed suit, and I told my companions we’d meet at the palace and then they could have the night off. Maker knows they deserved it.

“Are you okay?” Alistair asked once the chamber cleared and we were alone.

“Honestly? I don’t know. What if I made the wrong choice, Alistair? What if I’ve doomed Orzammar and the whole empire crumbles to the ground because of my crappy judgment?”

“You fought hard for these people, Scarlett. Bhelen and Harrowmont sat on their asses while you went out there and risked your life to do what needed to be done. The people of Orzammar can’t ask for more than that.” He reassured me.

“I suppose you’re right, but I still feel… wrong. Like there’s blood on my hands and it’s not coming off.” My eyes fell to the ground.

“Look at me.” He urged tenderly as he took my hands in his and brought them up to face-level. “These hands saved the people of Orzammar. These hands saved Redcliffe. They saved the Circle. And these hands fight every single day to save all of Thedas. These hands mean redemption, not butchery. It’s a pity about Harrowmont, but when all’s said and done, we did the best we could.”

I gave him a weak smile. “How do you always know just what to say?”

“Hmm… not sure. Perhaps you’re finally starting to rub off on me.” He smiled back. “And hey, look on the bright side. We got what we came for. We’ve secured another alliance against the Blight. We did it, Scarlett. We finally did it.” He stated proudly as he squeezed my hands and gave my knuckles a kiss.

I breathed a big sigh of relief as I lowered our hands. “That we did. Three down, one to go. What are the chances of the Dalish being warm and welcoming and immediately jumping to our aid with no issue whatsoever?”

Alistair sniggered at that one. “Dare to dream, Scarlett. Dare to dream. So, gave everyone the night off, did you? Could be dangerous, you realize. You know what tends to happen when we leave Zevran to his own devices.”

I put my fingers in my ears and shook my head. “Shhhh. Not listening. I need a night off, too. I think I’m going to find the biggest bathtub in all Orzammar and stay there. For a year.”

He let out another laugh. “Well, I’m sure they can accommodate such a request at the palace. Bhelen did say to meet him there. Shall we?”

…

Upon entering the palace, Vartag came up to greet us almost immediately.

“Greetings, Warden. And welcome. King Bhelen is organizing our troops for departure and regrets he is not here to greet you in person. The king has instructed me to give you whatever comforts you and your companions desire until you choose to take your leave from Orzammar, at which point he will see you off. How may I be of service?”

“Thanks, Vartag. Um… we don’t intend to stay for long. Probably just the night, if that’s all right.” I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ve always felt uncomfortable having people wait on me. I can’t help it. Back in Highever, I didn’t even have any ladies in waiting. The mere idea of it always weirded me out.

“Of course. I’ll show you to your quarters. Follow me, please.”

Vartag showed everyone to their rooms, and much to my delight, there was a HUGE bathtub in the corner of mine. My eyes lit up for the first time in weeks.

“Do you know how it works?” Vartag asked upon observing that I was very taken with the welcome sight.

“Um… you fill it up with pots of heated water and step in, right?” I asked.

He let out a slight laugh. “Not quite. Orzammar makes use of all that heat emanating from the magma beneath the ground. Through some rather intricate networks of pipes and valves, all you need do is turn this knob here, and limitless hot water will come pouring in.”

I somehow managed to get even more excited. “Maker bless dwarven ingenuity.”

“The servants have already placed some soaps and oils for your use on the shelf here. Supper will be brought in an hour’s time. If there isn’t anything else…”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you, Vartag.”

He gave me a nod before taking his leave and closing the door behind him. Not wasting another minute, I turned the knob as he’d instructed and began to remove my armor and clothing as quickly as I could, leaving it all in a disheveled pile on the floor. I opened each of the oils left for me on the shelf until I found a scent I liked—sweet vanilla mixed with white orchids and fresh jasmine with a hint of sandalwood. I poured some into the steaming liquid and watched it begin to bubble as it filled the tub to its limit.

No sooner had I sunk down into the silky, fragrant bathwater than I heard a blasted knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I called.

“One guess.” Alistair called back.

I felt a smile creep across my lips but I didn’t respond.

“...Well? May I come in?”

“The door’s open.” I answered. He walked in and closed the door behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“The servants have kindly offered to wash our clothes and send our armor to the smiths for mending. Thought I might collect yours before they disturbed you.”

“How thoughtful.” I smiled warmly. “Thanks, love. It’s all over there.” I gestured to the pile on the floor near the tub. Alistair knelt down to gather it up and took a deep breath in.

“Yep, that’s me. Super considerate. No ulterior motive whatsoever…” he paused with a smirk before crawling closer to the bathtub. “You smell like heaven.” He said softly.

I let out a short laugh. “It’s not me. Just the water.”

“Hmm… you sure? I think this calls for closer inspection.”

He leaned over the edge of the tub and got his face close to the water’s surface before moving his nose closer to the few parts of my skin that weren’t beneath it—my shoulders, then up to my neck, then my ears. He stopped once he reached my ears and took another deep breath in, then let it out slowly, giving me goosebumps.

I closed my eyes as I heard him whisper, “Want some company?”

I swallowed hard and nodded my head slowly as I felt him begin to nibble my ear. Then I remembered the big “What if…” scenario we had discussed back in the Deep Roads.

“But we can’t—”

“Don’t worry, Scarlett. Nothing happens without your say-so. I promise.” He reassured me as he gathered my things, placed them in the hall, and closed and locked the door. Then he removed his tunic. And Maker preserve me, he was so beautiful. No matter how many times I’d seen him undress, it always had the same stunning effect on me. I wasn’t even standing and I still felt weak in the knees just at the sight of him. And then he pushed his pants down and I could see he was already partially erect, I assume from seeing how a gesture so small as his whispers could affect me so profoundly.

I scooched up so he could sit behind me as he sunk down, the water splashing over the tub’s edge. I thought I was perfectly content before, but the warmth of Alistair’s body wrapped around me, his legs cradling my hips, his manhood pressing into the small of my back—this was definitely an upgrade.

He reached for an empty cup and some soap from the shelf. He filled the cup with water and gingerly lifted my chin so I tilted my head back, and he emptied the water over my hair, drenching it completely. He took the soap in his hands, worked up a good lather, and began massaging my scalp. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as every nerve in my body seemed to tingle and come alive.

“I confess I’ve always wanted to do this.” He admitted shyly.

“...Really?”

“Yep, it seems mine isn’t the only hair I’m obsessed with.” I felt him crack a smile as the tone of his voice got brighter.

“I guess it’s gotten quite long since we met. Well, longer, I mean.” It used to hit just below my shoulders. Now it hit right above the small of my back. Time flies when you’re having fun.

“I love it.” He complimented as he kept working it between his fingers.

“Alright, I have to ask: What is it about my hair that entices you so?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just so… you. The way you keep it in that braid, so controlled, so locked up tight around everyone else. But when you’re with me and you let it down… when you give me that look as it falls around your shoulders… Maker have mercy…”  

I couldn’t help but smile. I loved the little things he always seemed to notice. Things I wasn’t even doing consciously. He mentioned the way I chew my bottom lip when I’m thinking too hard. The way my eyelids flutter when I first wake up in the morning. The pattern of the blush that paints my chest when he gives me a compliment. The strawberry-colored birthmark on my right breast. The tiny smattering of freckles that magically appear on my cheekbones when I’m out in the sun too long. Things I wouldn’t think of paying any sort of attention to, but somehow he seemed to love and adore every single one of them. It made me feel so special. So cherished. For the first time in my life, I’d found someone who knew how to make me feel… beautiful.

“I love you, Alistair.” I said dreamily as he continued massaging me. He placed a gentle kiss on my shoulder before whispering, “I love you, too.”

“Leliana offered to cut it, you know… I thought I might take her up on it.” I teased after a moment’s pause.  

“Don’t you dare!” He protested. I let out a quiet giggle.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He demanded gently as he tilted my head back again, pouring the water over my hair to rinse the suds away.

“Well, was it everything you hoped for?” I asked as I looked over my shoulder to face him, the soap all gone from my hair.

He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “And then some. But I fear the job is only half finished.”

“Oh? And what job is that, good ser?” I asked coyly.

He cleared his throat as he whispered against my lips. “May I wash you, my lady?”

I nibbled his lower lip before whispering back, “Only if you’re very, very thorough.”

I felt his cock twitch at my back as soon as I said the words, and it made us both shudder in the best way.

“Your desire is my command.”

“Mmm, I do love the way you say that.” I smiled softly as he gave me a quick kiss and reached for some of the oil on the shelf. He worked it in his hands and began running his fingers over my shoulders, working and kneading the flesh there slowly and with just the right amount of pressure. I kept my breathing slow and even as he pushed his thumbs between my shoulder blades and spread his fingers all over my skin, making me melt beneath the friction of his touch.

“If you keep that up I’m going to fall asleep,” I warned as I leaned back into him, never wanting to move from that spot ever again.

He moved his lips to just outside my earlobe, knowing full well it drives me crazy. “Well, we can’t have that. I guess I’ll have to move on to something more… stimulating.”

Hands still slick with oil, he glided them in one smooth motion over my shoulders to my collarbone and then my breasts, massaging one in each hand, my pink nipples growing hard as he rolled them between his fingers. He let out a slow moan into my ear as he felt my reaction to his touch, my hips beginning to rock against his body.

“Better?” He asked as he gave them a pinch. I let out a gasp and nodded vigorously. “...Dare I venture lower?”

“Yes, please.” I whispered.

“Well, since you asked so nicely and all…” I felt him grin against the flesh of my ear as his hands moved below my breasts, over the flesh of my stomach, then over my hips to my lower back, once again working me with his magical fingers. It felt good, but it wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for. And he knew it, that cheeky bastard.

“You seem disappointed, my love. Not what you had in mind?”

“Not exactly, but it has been a while. Perhaps you need me to show you how it’s done...”

I moved to get up and sit on the stony ledge of the huge tub, every inch of my hair and skin still drenched with water, and I slowly parted my legs wide, fully exposing to him my most intimate parts. Tease me, will ya…

I brought my middle finger to my lips and licked the tip of it before taking it all the way in my mouth, making the gesture much more of a show than was entirely necessary. His eyes were wide and his breathing was heavy as he drew closer. I locked eyes with him at first, but soon his eyes wandered lower as I trailed my finger, slick with saliva, down my body, from my lips to my chin to the nape of my neck to the line between my cleavage, down the center of my stomach until it reached its destination. I slowly pushed past my lips and started rubbing my tiny little bud, making slow circles with my fingertip.

“Maker have mercy…” he whispered before he began panting and moving closer still. “Tell me. Tell me how it feels, Scarlett.” He begged as he looked back up into my eyes, his own burning with unbridled lust.

“It feels… slick... soft and velvety.... There’s a pulse. A heat…”

“Mmm… I wanna feel that heat…” He began as he wrapped his hands around my ankles and began moving them up along the long lines of my legs.

“Oh, you had your chance. Now I’m afraid you’ll just have to watch me.”

I pushed him away gently, my feet exerting pressure against his chest before opening my legs to him again. He licked his lips as I kept moving my finger against my little pebble, my breathing beginning to grow labored. I noticed his hands were beneath the water’s surface, which was rippling with the movement of his forearm.

“Hands where I can see them, Alistair.” I ordered as my own fingers came to a halt.

“Seriously?!” He wailed as he lifted his hands and gripped the edges of the tub so I could see he’d stopped touching himself.

“I know. I’m downright cruel, aren’t I?” I smirked as I dipped a single finger inside, my hips rocking again as I watched the gleam of hunger in his eyes. Then I let another digit slip inside me and moved my other hand back to my throbbing little button. I let out a deep groan as my hips bucked against my hand, my fingers rolling my clit faster and faster.

“One more finger, Scarlett. Please...” He asked as his knuckles turned white from gripping the stone edges so hard. He was really, really enjoying the show, it seemed. And that made every touch that much more intense—knowing he was watching me so intently, so hungrily.

I did as he asked and slowly, carefully, slipped a third finger inside my slick folds. And I began pumping, all the way in, and all the way out, just the way he loved to fuck me. The frustration almost becoming too great, he closed his eyes for only an instant before snapping them open, unable to take them from the feverish movements of my hands.

“Do you want to watch me come, Alistair?” I asked in a low, breathy voice.

He just nodded vigorously, not removing his eyes from me for a single second. Yes, it’s true. I, Scarlett Cousland, managed to render Alistair Theirin speechless. No small task, let me tell you.

I pumped faster and rubbed a little harder and it wasn’t long before I found myself holding my breath, arching my back, flexing my legs, and coming all over my fingers. I heard Alistair let out a moan as soon as he knew I’d gotten myself over the edge, but he remained vigilant and his hands never moved. So well-behaved.

I slunk back down into the now lukewarm water, my movements toward him slow and deliberate, my eyes a mix of pleasure-drunk and lust-ridden. I brought my face close to his and whispered against his lips, never closing the gap between us, as my hand wrapped around his rock-hard member.

“It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it? Not being able to touch me. Taste me. Fuck me.” I asked as I began moving my hand up and down the length of him. His eyes rolled as his hips rocked against my fist, hands still gripping the edge of the tub.

“Y-yes…” he whispered, his eyes still closed and head dropping back at the pleasure my hand was giving his aching cock.

“Stand up.” I demanded as I let him go. He let out a frustrated groan but ultimately did as he was told. I moved so I was sitting on my knees, my face level with his impossibly hard shaft. Little beads of water were dripping off his dark pink tip, making him look even more delectable than usual.

“But you’ll let me do whatever I want…” I began as I moved my tongue in a long, slow circle around the tip of him. “...won’t you?”

His knees buckled but he managed to stay upright by steadying himself on my shoulders.

“Yes, my love. Whatever you want. However you want.” He panted.

I reached up and gripped the cheeks of his buttocks, my nails digging into his flesh as I took inch by irresistible inch of him into my mouth. I pulled him as deep as I possibly could, making sure to relax my jaw and remind myself to breathe as I struggled to take him all in. I couldn’t quite fit all of him inside me, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. I bobbed my head up and down on his quivering member, moaning as I kneaded his backside, my tongue flicking against the little mountain of flesh that was right on the underside of him, just beneath his head. I only had to keep it up for about a minute—he’d already gotten so close just from my little erotic display. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled hard as he erupted against the back of my throat, my tongue never slowing its tantalizing movements until he was completely drained.

He slowly squatted down back into the water, his whole body shaky and wobbly. I bit my lip and looked up into his eyes, still dark and almost glowing with raw need.

It looked like he was about to open his mouth to speak, but thought better of it as he collected himself.

“My my, did I render the great Alistair Theirin speechless twice in one evening?” I grinned.

Then, in a flash, he tightened his grip on my hair and pulled me in for a deep, forceful, breathtaking kiss. I moaned into his mouth as I felt him bite my lips.

“Bed. Now.” He growled.

I raised my eyebrows with surprise before he kissed me again, this one even harder and more powerful than the last. I guess our... “activities” had only served to stoke his desire rather than quell it. Oops.

And then, right on cue, there came another rapping at the door.

“Ignore it.” He ordered.


	45. The More the Merrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> As Scarlett and the gang prepare to leave Orzammar, she has a few... unexpected encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of character development in this one. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to all of you who take the time to comment and leave kudos. It means the world to me. :) 
> 
> Special thanks to PookatheCat for letting me bounce a few ideas off her! Such a huge help!

_Knock knock._

“... My lady?” A meek but feminine voice called from the outside the room.

“Uh… just a minute!” I called back, ignoring Alistair’s order for me not to answer it as I frantically scanned the area for something to cover myself with. Without looking at his reaction to my defiance I hurriedly stepped out of the tub, wrapped myself in a towel and made my way over to the door, intent on receiving whatever the stranger had brought so they’d leave promptly. Alistair, however, had other plans. Just as my hand was about to turn the doorknob, he snatched it away and made me turn around and face him, forcing my back against the door with a loud _THUD._

“I distinctly remember telling you not to answer this door.” He reminded me in a gravelly but hushed baritone as he pinned my wrists to the wooden doorframe, the towel falling to the ground.

“My… my lady? I’ve brought some—” The voice began as Alistair bit my neck hard. An involuntary shriek escaped my throat as I felt his teeth beginning to sink into my flesh, not deep enough to draw blood but certainly hard enough to leave a mark. He pulled my wrists close together so they could be held in place by only his left hand as I felt the long, rough fingers of his right wrap around the flesh of my lower thigh, lifting my leg so he could position himself right outside my opening, moving his length all along the cleft of my lips. Oh. My. Maker.

All too eager to participate in this game of disputed dominance, I half-heartedly tried to fight him and escape, pushing my wrists hard against the hand that affixed them. He slammed them back down just as hard as he dug his fingertips into my thigh right above the knee he’d raised to wrap around his hip. One push. One push was all it would take to feel his sumptuous length deep inside my aching core.

“My lady?! Are you alright?! Shall I fetch the guards!?” The voice called, the intonation growing more and more concerned with each sound Alistair’s aggressive actions wrested from me.

“Yes, my lady. Do you need rescuing?” Alistair murmured teasingly into my ear as he ran the tip of his length right against the throbbing bud between my legs.

I closed my eyes as my breaths quickened, the feel of them hot and shallow as they bounced off Alistair’s moist skin and hit my own. His head kept rolling against my slick little button that was growing swollen beneath his attentions, the rest of me aching so badly to have him inside me it almost hurt.

“You’d better answer her...” He warned. “She sounds awfully worried.” He raised my leg higher and positioned himself exactly where I needed him.

“YES!” I threw my head back and cried out as I felt him slowly, maddeningly begin to drive his hardness all the way inside of me.

“Right away!” The voice acknowledged before I heard her footsteps scuttle away to get some help.

“NO! WAIT!” I tried to stop her, but it was no use. She had rushed off, and Alistair had me riiiight where he wanted me.

“I assume you were speaking to her…” Alistair inquired as he slowly began to retract, then plunge into me a second time. The only affirmation I could give him was a deep moan, despite trying my best to form a coherent thought. That was proving to be exceedingly difficult given the circumstances.

“Seems I’ve rendered you speechless this time. My how the tables have turned.” He grinned against my lips as he slowly thrust into me a third time.

“The… the guards… they’re… they’re…” I stammered, unable to fully complete the sentence as his pace began to hasten.

“I know. We’re very likely to get caught, aren’t we?” He asked as he nibbled at my lips, his measured thrusts making me pant and sigh to his rhythm, my fingernails digging into his hand that was still holding my arms high above my head. “Sort of makes it even more… exciting… doesn’t it?” He began to move his lips down to my chin, along my jawline, working his way back to my ear. “Knowing we shouldn’t be doing this… that we might get found out any second…” He grazed my earlobe with his teeth as he went harder, my back slamming against the wooden door with each vigorous thrust. He let my hands go so he could place both of his firmly beneath my buttocks, lifting me higher and holding me to him as he pounded harder and harder still.

“Alistair!” I cried out as he fucked me, his fervor merciless, his power unyielding.

“Oh no. I think I hear them coming, Scarlett…” He paused to listen for the footsteps which did indeed sound like they were drawing closer. “You should probably do the same.” He flashed a wry smile before he bit my neck again. The sharp pain mixed with the unfettered pleasure he was giving me proved to be too much and I felt my whole body tense before releasing to him, gasping for air as I felt my every nerve ignite and come alive. Reveling in each new wave of pleasure his thrusts afforded me, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he kept going, squeezing him tightly between my thighs and hooking my ankles together at his back.

“Tight, Maker you’re so tight.” He moaned breathlessly, finally beginning to lose his composure.

_KNOCK KNOCK._

There came another pounding at the door, much louder and more forceful than the noise caused by the dainty fist of his predecessor.

“Warden?! Are you in there?!” Vartag called as Alistair held me tighter, completely undeterred from the task at hand.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just a… a…” I tried to stifle my moans, but it was next to impossible. Alistair just felt so, so very good. “A misunderstanding!” I called back once I found the word I was looking for, hoping beyond hope that he’d take the hint and get lost. Alistair pulled me closer and bent his knees and adjusted his hips slightly, the new angle eliciting a deep groan from us both.

“What was that?!” Vartag questioned, no doubt hearing the distinguishable male voice accompanying my own.

“Nothing!” I insisted as I felt Alistair beginning to come undone, his breaths becoming ragged and labored.

“Warden, if you are not being held against your will, open this door this instant or I will be forced to break it down.”

Uh oh...

Alistair sunk his nails into the flesh of my hips as I felt him push me away and pull out of me in one swift motion, spilling his seed all over my lower stomach as my legs fell back to the ground. I quickly grabbed the towel off the floor, wrapped it around me, and opened the door a crack after shoving Alistair against the wall behind it.

“I’m fine! See? You just caught me... in the middle of something.” I gave him my most reassuring smile as I heard Alistair trying to silently catch his breath from behind the door. “No worse for wear, I promise.”

“Arta said you told her to fetch the guards…” The dwarf inquired with a raised brow.

“Oh, did she say guards? I thought she said bards. I like a little entertainment with my males—MEALS. My meals.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. Andraste’s blood I’m a terrible liar. I heard Alistair trying to stifle a chortle at my slip of the tongue. I swear I am going to kill that man.

Vartag looked past me at what little he could see of the rest of the room, the skepticism plain on his face.

“I’d like to have a look around, Warden. Just to be sure.” He began to push the door open wider.

“I’m not dressed.” I explained plainly as I held the door firmly in place.

“I’m afraid I must insist. This is a matter of security, for both you and the king.”

He pushed the door harder and I stepped aside, desperately clinging to the towel as he made his way into the room. He looked at the bed, still perfectly made, the bathtub still halfway filled with water, the many candles still standing upright, their flames dancing in a perfectly ordinary fashion. There were no signs of struggle, nothing out of place other than the water that had spilled over the edge of the tub during our… preliminary activities. Alistair remained hidden behind the door that was now completely swung open.

“Satisfied?” I asked as I impatiently tapped my foot.

“Apologies, my lady. I only wanted to be sure you’re safe.”

“I know. I appreciate it. But I’m fine. Just a bit wet.” I heard Alistair let out a slight snigger at that and I cleared my throat loudly to cover it up.

“You know, I’ve had a frog in my throat since I returned to Orzammar. Probably all that stale air from the Deep Roads. Do you think I might be able to get some tea?”

“Certainly, Warden. I’ll ask Arta to bring some at once.”

“Thanks, Vartag. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to put some clothes on.”

He cleared his throat this time, clearly embarrassed at my current state of undress. “Of course. Good evening.”

I gave him a nod of acknowledgment as he walked out the door before I slammed it closed behind him. Alistair, unable to contain himself for another second, burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Maker have mercy, Scarlett. You’re going to be the death of me.” He declared once he finally calmed down enough to get a word out.

“Oh, I suppose this is all _my_ fault?!” I asked as I feigned agitation, my arms akimbo, my lips contorted into a slight scowl.

“Completely.” He grinned mischievously. “If you’d only followed directions…”

My scowl gave way to a flirtatious smile as I drew closer to him, brushing my lips across his softly, slowly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

He closed his eyes and let out a quiet “mmm” against my lips. “Sorry things didn’t go… quite according to plan.” He admitted shyly.

“I can’t resist you. It’s my one flaw.” I winked as I used the towel to wipe my stomach clean. “I’m just glad you were thinking clearly enough to… well… finish… elsewhere. I lost my mind somewhere between you pinning me to the door and whispering in my ear. Caution sort of flew out the window.”

The tension in his shoulders dissipated as he let out a light chuckle. “I could tell.”

“I must say, for someone who’s always so hesitant to take the lead, you seem to be enjoying it more and more lately.” I noticed.

“...What do you mean?”

“Well, tonight… and that little stunt at the Proving Grounds… if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re starting to enjoy taking control.”

“Huh… I… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. Is that… I mean, do you...” He was beginning to feel nervous now, as though the domineering man he was only a few moments ago had run away and all that remained was the wisecracking yet insecure boy I’d met back at Ostagar.

“It’s very, very sexy…” I purred as I nibbled his earlobe.

He let out a sigh as he began to relax a little. “Good. I um… I’m only like that when I’m around you.”

“I should hope so.” I gave him an accusing but playful glare.

“No no no, I didn’t mean… uh… what I’m trying to say is, there’s something about you… being near you, it does something to me.”

“Oh the feeling is very mutual, believe me…” I gave him a quick smile before planting gentle kisses along his neck. He chuckled softly as I kissed his Adam’s apple, the vibrations tickling my lips.

“I’m flattered, but that’s not exactly what I mean.” I could tell things were starting to get a little more serious in tone, so I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “ It’s like… whenever I’m alone with you, it makes me feel like I can become someone else. Someone… more powerful. Someone who can challenge you. Someone worthy of you.”

I smiled warmly as I ran my hand down his cheek. “It’s a symbiosis.”

“A what now?”

I giggled at the puzzled look that befell his face. “What I’m saying is, you make me want to be strong. And my strength, the strength you give me, feeds your own. It’s um… mutually beneficial.”

“We do make a damn good team.” He smiled at me but it soon began to fade. “Or at least we did… before…” His smile ran away completely as his eyebrows fell, a sadness overtaking his countenance. I slipped his hands in mine and rested my forehead against his.

“We still do.” I reassured him.

“But I’m not who I used to be. I’m just…” I hushed him with a gentle kiss as I pulled away and found his eyes.

“Alistair, you have been given a wonderful gift.”

“...A gift? I know being a Grey Warden definitely has its drawbacks, but I never wanted this.” He argued.

“Listen to me. Right now, at this moment, you’re free. You’re not a templar. You’re not a Grey Warden. You’re not a king. Right now, you’re just Alistair. You have this rare and amazing opportunity to figure out who you truly are.” I lifted our hands and placed them flat on his chest so he could feel his own steady heartbeat. “Use this time to find out who that is, and when you do, try not to be afraid of it.”

His smile returned as he placed his other hand on top of mine, holding it to him. “Maker’s breath do I love you.” He whispered against my lips.

“I love you, too.” I whispered back before our lips met once again.  

…

We spent the rest of the night feeding each other grapes and cheese and drinking wine (dwarven wine is a vast improvement over dwarven ale, I’ve come to learn) and simply enjoying each other’s company for the first time in what felt like years. It was one of those nights where the conversation flowed naturally and the laughs and kisses came freely; where you felt as though you were flying high above the clouds and the rabble; where absolutely nothing could bring you down. That is, nothing except my spectacular predilection for pessimism. Although I tried to just be in the moment and savor every second, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Treasure this, Scarlett. Cherish these moments. Before you know it, nights like these will be gone.”

I don’t even entirely know why I thought that. For some reason I just had this inescapable feeling that everything was about to come to a head, and despite all my tries, I was not going to get my happy ending. But whenever I was about to resign myself to melancholy, Alistair was there, tickling my tummy or kissing the corners of my mouth or holding my hand. And that was enough to bring me back from the brink of despair.

I awoke to the feel of his warm body against my back, his fingers twirling my hair absent-mindedly in his sleep. I felt better than I had in weeks—my mind was clear and calm, my body rested and recharged. It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for a person. I gently untangled my hair from his grasp, gave him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, and made my way to the tub to enjoy this infrequent comfort one final time before we left Orzammar behind and began our journey to the Brecilian Forest.

I had no idea what time it was since there was no sun, no sky, but judging from the lack of hustle and bustle in my area of the castle as I peeked out my bedroom door, I guessed it was either very early or very late. Maker, had I slept an entire day?! Regardless, now that our night of revelry and passion had come to an end, now that I no longer had the darkspawn or golems or poisonous spiders to contend with, now that Orzammar finally had a king and I had my army, I had to take steps to address that other rather large worry that’s been nagging at me.

I tiptoed my way down the hall, doing my very best rogue impression to pass through completely unnoticed. I soon came to realize my very best rogue impression is… clumsy, at best. However, I did manage to make it to Wynne’s door without anyone stopping me or making a fuss. Progress!

“Good… is it morning? I can’t really tell.” I greeted the mage with a bright smile.

“I suppose it might be morning, just barely. You were asleep for a very long time.” She explained as she stepped out of the doorway to let me pass.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“You needed the rest, my dear. No need to apologize. We all needed some time to recuperate after the events in the Deep Roads.”

“I suppose that’s true.” I sighed. “We have a very long journey ahead of us.”

“Indeed. Now, what brings you here?” She asked as she sat at a small table, poured me some tea, and made me a plate from the basket of sticky buns someone must have brought for her. Being the guest of a king is not without its perks, it seems.  

“Thanks. I um… Maker, I don’t know where to start.”

“Would you like to start with telling me Alistair is no longer a Grey Warden, or would you prefer to work your way up to it?” Her mouth curved upward slightly to form the faintest of smiles as she brought the cup of steaming tea to her wrinkled lips.

My jaw dropped and my eyes grew wide with shock. FUCK.

“How did you—”

“I was there when we cured him with those Ashes, Scarlett. I knew what would likely happen, though I wasn’t entirely sure at the time. And then, your rather uncharacteristic reaction to his failure in protecting me against the darkspawn; it didn’t take me long to see how the pieces fit together.”

“Who else knows? Have you told anyone?” I asked as I frantically looked around the room, suddenly in a panic.

“Be calm. I’ve told no one. And I intend to keep it that way.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I don’t want anyone else to know. Finding out our chances of defeating the Archdemon have gone down by 50%... it’s not going to do much for morale.” I reasoned.

“Agreed. So, tell me. Why are you really here?”

I picked at the cooling bun on my plate, my fingernails tearing it apart bit by bit until it was broken up into yeasty ribbons.

“Scarlett, it’s alright. You can tell me anything. I promise.” Her bright blue eyes shifted to meet my own, her paper-like hands rested gently on top of mine in reassurance.

She was right, I could tell her anything. Telling her anything without criticism however… not so much. Wynne was many things—nonjudgmental was not one of them. But who else could I go to? Too much time will have passed if I wait until we find the Dalish to do anything about my… predicament. That is, _if_ we find them. And since I’d been down here I’d seen various dwarves from all sorts of castes who performed all kinds of functions, but for this particular issue? None of them really fit the bill. Damnit.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” I began once I found my nerve. “Grey Wardens, as you may or may not know, are often... infertile. It’s very difficult for them to conceive.”

“Mhmm, go on.”

“Alistair and I, well, our relationship has often been quite… physical…” I explained as I felt a bright blush invade my cheeks. Maker have mercy.

“Uh huh…”

Oh come on, Wynne. Do I really need to spell it out?! Gah!

“Well, we had been… physical… before I knew he was healed, you see. So we took no… precautions.”

“Oh, I see...”

“Back at Redcliffe when you told me about your… well, when you went through something similar, you said there were ways to prevent such things from happening.”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Scarlett. How long has it been since you’ve had your… crimson visitor?”

“I… can’t say. It’s been… erratic at best, since the Joining.”

“Have you noticed any tenderness in your breasts? Weight gain? Nausea?”

“Er… not yet, no…”

“Hmm…” she tapped her chin thoughtfully before grabbing a partially empty wine glass leftover from last night’s meal and extending it to me. I just gave her a confused stare.

“Go on, take it.”

“Er… okay. And in what way will drinking wine help, exactly?” I asked as I grabbed the glass by the stem.

“You’re not going to drink it. You’re going to urinate in it.”

“... Come again?”

She let out a quiet titter. “Although I am a mage of some experience, our methods of detecting pregnancy still leave something to be desired. It is not an exact science, unfortunately. The best way I’ve learned to glean such things is mixing the woman’s urine with wine. Certain proteins will interact with the substance and turn it a different color if… well…”

“If my worst nightmare has become a reality?” I finished for her.

“If you like.” She took another sip of tea, clearly displeased with my negative attitude. I thought about calling her out, but ultimately opted to let it go. For the first time in ages I was in a good mood, and I wasn’t about to let a sanctimonious mage ruin it.

Wine glass in hand, I went to the privy and did my business, praying that no one would catch me and ask what the heck I was up to on my way back to Wynne. And no one did. Phew.

I set the now full glass on the table nervously.

“Uh… how long is this supposed to take?” I inquired.

“Several hours at least.”

“I was sort of hoping we’d leave Orzammar soon. Can we… um… take it with us?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Youths today. Always in such a rush. I suppose I could use this empty lyrium vial...”

“Thanks, Wynne. For your help with this. And for your discretion.” I gave her a grateful smile.

“You’re very welcome. I know it was not easy for you to come to me with such a matter. I appreciate your trust.”

I gave her a nod of thanks before making my way back down the hall, headed toward my room. I did get discovered this time. By Morrigan, no less. Lucky me.

“Well well well, where might you be sneaking off to in the wee hours of the morn?”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I was just trying to be considerate. It’s early and others may still be asleep.”

“Always so very selfless. Always. Do you not tire of this pointless act?”

“... Act? Is the concept of putting the needs of others ahead of your own really so foreign to you?”

“Hmm… Do you wish to know what I think? What I really think?” She asked as she leaned in, as though whispering a secret meant for no one but we two.

I just stared at her, tinges of anger beginning to prick my skin.

“Well, you are still standing here so I assume you do. I think... you are enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what, exactly?”

“This. All of it. The action. The intrigue. The power. But especially the killing… you love the killing.”

“Where in the Maker’s name is this coming from?” I asked, completely bewildered.

“Oh will you just admit it? You are not fighting to defeat the Blight for the good of Thedas. You are doing it because you have free rein to feed that insatiable bloodlust of yours. That bloodlust you have indulged since Ostagar. Sticking your sword through the middle of that dwarf… it felt good, did it not? I saw you, Scarlett. She had barely lifted her weapon before you stabbed her. Killing brings you pleasure.”

“Morrigan, I took absolutely no pleasure in taking Branka’s life. She was lost. Confused.”

“She was also in the way. Another inconvenience to be squashed beneath the blade of the mighty Grey Warden.” Morrigan pointed out flippantly.

“Funny. You seemed to have no issue with my blade when it was doing your bidding and killing your mother.” I retorted. She had no comeback for that one. I didn’t want to say something I’d later regret, so I let go of some of my flaring anger and softened slightly. “Was that so long ago now that you’ve forgotten what you told me? That you’d come to think of me as a friend, nay, a sister?”

“Ah yes. ‘Friends.’ True friends have the courtesy to stab you in the front. So be forthcoming with me now. Tell me, Scarlett. What happens when I, too, become inconvenient?”

“You mean when I suffer your sudden but inevitable betrayal?” I asked plainly. Enough pussyfooting around.

Her eyes grew wide, her mouth twisted into a resentful snarl. “How dare you?! After all I do, after all I have done—”

“Morrigan, I’m not a fool. We both know that something is... driving you. And I’m not sure I’ll ever find out what that is. You are one puzzle I may never figure out. Regardless, I value you, and the relationship we’ve developed.”

“Do you?” She asked with an arched brow. “You who was so quick to use that Anvil against me?”

I laughed aloud at first at the absurdity of the accusation, then I met her eyes and saw the genuine sadness tinged with a little bit of fear in those golden irises. There was someone… fragile, someone delicate staring back at me. Someone completely unlike her. And then it dawned on me. Flemeth had threatened to possess Morrigan’s body, to inhabit her completely and turn her into a mindless drone. Not wholly dissimilar to what would have happened if I’d really intended to turn Morrigan into a golem… Maker’s breath, how could I have been so blind? Ugh.  

“Is that what this is about?” I asked gently.

She just crossed her arms and turned her face away in a huff.

“Morrigan, I had no intention of really turning you into a golem. I promise. I was just saying that to make a point.”

“But the manner in which you said it… so cold… so unfeeling…”

“So… like you?” I asked. That pissed her off enough that she turned on her heels and began to storm off. I grabbed her shoulder while she was still within arm’s reach and she hissed as though my touch were acid.

“Do not touch me!” She growled as she turned back around to face me. I lifted both my hands up where she could see them.

“Sorry, sorry. Not touching you. See? Just… don’t walk away yet.”

She calmed down a bit and remained standing a few feet from me.

“Why not?” she snapped. “What could you possibly want from me? Your frigid pragmatist. Your unsolvable enigma. Your great betrayer.”

“You forgot one.”

“Oh?”

“You’re also my friend.”  

“You make no sense, Scarlett Cousland. You are convinced I will ultimately cause you suffering and yet you insist we remain... close. Why?”

“Because that’s what friendship is, Morrigan. You accept each other unconditionally—warts and all. You may not always tell me what I want to hear, but you often tell me what I _need_ to hear. I have no intention of throwing that away. It’s precious to me.”

Her facade broke for a moment. The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of her lips, her cheeks grew the slightest bit more rosy, a gleam appeared in her painted eyes. I could tell I got through to her somehow and she was actually touched by my words. But it was only seconds before the mask was back on, and the cool and collected and callous Morrigan regained control.

“Be careful, Scarlett. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing.” She warned.

I just gave her a slow smile. “Right back atcha.”

I walked away and left her standing there in the hall, alone with her thoughts. Despite her best efforts to stay detached, to stay numb, Morrigan had proved time and time again that she had come to care for me on some level, whether by taking on those wolves to protect me from Leliana’s assassins, saving my hide from Howe’s Qunari mercenaries in Denerim, staying up late to make sure I had something to eat in Haven when I was so wracked with worry over Alistair, going to fetch Teagan all by herself when we needed him most, the list went on. And the fact that she’d started feeling the slightest bit of affection toward another person—it was scaring the shit out of her. It was a feeling I was all too familiar with. Still, it was something she’d have to work through on her own, just as I did. The road to letting those walls down, the road to feeling, is a very personal one, and it must be walked alone.

…

I went back to my room, roused Alistair from his impressive slumber, rounded up the rest of my companions, and told Vartag we were getting ready to head out. He asked us to wait in the main foyer of the palace so Bhelen could bid us farewell.

Only a few minutes passed before I saw him approach, dressed to the nines, a beautiful red-headed dwarf with fair skin and crimson lips by his side. And, unless my eyes deceived me, she was with child. My, he certainly doesn’t believe in wasting time, does he?

“Hello again, Warden. I trust you slept well and the accommodations were satisfactory.”

“And then some. Thank you, Bhelen.”

“It is I who must thank you, Warden. Ah, but where are my manners. I would like to introduce you to Rica, my... consort.”

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” I curtseyed for the first time in a looong while. I was almost surprised I remembered how.

“Oh, there’s no need for such formality, Warden.” She giggled.

“Nonsense. You are no longer casteless, Rica. Such a greeting should now be expected.” Bhelen chimed in.

“You were a casteless?” I asked her first before turning to Bhelen. “You’re marrying a casteless?” In hindsight I realize it probably wasn’t entirely appropriate to just blurt it out like that, but I was… shocked. Such brazen actions so wouldn’t fly in Ferelden.

“My coronation marked the dawn of a new age for Orzammar, Warden. Warrior or smith, noble or commoner, we need to move beyond such trivialities to unite and grow as a nation.”

“But… with respect, your majesty, I’ve already heard people in the Diamond Quarter speaking with disdain about your betrothal. Doesn’t that… bother you?” Alistair interjected, suddenly very interested in the newly crowned king’s decision.

Bhelen just laughed. “I wouldn’t be much of a king if it did. A good king must be a little selfish. The mighty wolf does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.”

“Are you saying a good king ignores the will of the people?” Alistair asked, the confusion plain on his face.

“Of course not. I’m saying don’t sweat the small stuff. I have a long road ahead of me. There is nothing more perilous to conduct or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things. A few nobles gossiping behind my back about with whom I’ve chosen to share my bed? This is the least of my concerns.”  

Alistair furrowed his brows as though he were deep in contemplation over what Bhelen had said. Interesting…

“But come, enough talk of such things. The Warden wishes to continue her journey as soon as possible, and I will not detain her further. Warden, you have proven yourself and more. Without your aid, I would not have taken this throne so smoothly, or so soon.”

“You’ll be a stronger king than Harrowmont.” I offered. It was about the nicest thing I could think of to say. I still didn’t like Bhelen. Sue me.

“As all in Orzammar will soon see. My generals are already preparing for a mission to the surface. When you have need of us, you shall have every able-bodied dwarf in Orzammar. Now, I have much to do, so if there is nothing else…”

“Nothing further. We’ll be on our way. Thank you for your aid, and your hospitality.”

“Good luck, Warden. May we both crush our enemies.”

And with that, Orzammar’s king and I went our separate ways. As soon as we set foot outside the palace, however, a young, and apparently quite excited, female dwarf stopped us in our tracks.

“You’re the one, right?! The Grey Warden everyone’s been talking about?!” she asked as her eyes looked up to meet mine, glittering like brilliant aquamarine gems.

“Guilty.” I sighed. “May I help you?”

“I’ve been trying forever to find someone who really knows the surface world. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of something called ‘The Circle’?”

“My companion here is a senior enchanter of the Circle, in fact.” I explained as I gestured toward Wynne.

The dwarf gasped and snatched Wynne’s hand in hers, shaking it vigorously. “Oh, my lady. It is an honor! I’ve never met an actual mage!”

“Don’t let the glamor fool you, child. Wielding magic is a dangerous occupation and a great responsibility.”

“Why do you ask about the Circle?” I posed.

“I want to know if they would accept me for study.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“No dwarf has ever studied at the Circle of Magi.” The girl explained. I’m surprised she didn’t add a “Duh!”

“Dwarves do not possess the gift of magic. They are immune, in fact.” Wynne expounded further.

“Ah. Then why—”

“I don’t want to do magic. I just want to learn its secrets. It would be a valuable exchange. Orzammar would learn one of the great natural forces of the surface. And the Circle gains direct access to our knowledge of lyrium smithing. It’s a win-win!” the girl was all aglow with eagerness. “Do you think you could… bring the Circle my request?”

I grimaced at the girl’s plea. I did not wish to disappoint her, but we really had to get our asses in gear and find the Dalish ASAP. Time was running out.

“Oh Scarlett, have a heart. She’s so enthusiastic and adorable. We simply must help her.” Leliana added once she saw I wasn’t entirely convinced.

“The Circle is on the way to the Brecilian Forest, Scarlett. More or less…” Wynne reasoned. “It would be nice if we could find the time to make a quick stop. I am curious to see if it has made strides toward recovery.”

“I’ll um… I’ll think about it, okay? No promises.”

“Oh thank you thank you thank you! My name is Dagna, by the way. Oh, I’ll go pack my bags right now!”

“But I said no prom—” I began, but it was too late. She’d already sped away as fast as her little feet could carry her. Kids. Oy.

We made our way back toward the Commons, the fresh air and blue sky so close I could almost taste them. I thought about trying to find Oghren to give him a proper goodbye, but I wasn’t sure if that was wise. What could I say? “Thanks for the help, sorry again for murdering your wife. Catch ya on the flipside!”? Talk about awkward. In the end, I opted to leave it up to fate. If we ran into him on our way out the door, great. If not, best to leave well enough alone.

As I began to tug on the rather sizeable door leading into the Hall of Heroes, I felt someone pushing it toward me from the other side.

“Well if it isn’t another surfacer.” A deep, raspy voice emanated from the dwarf smiling up at me. He was unlike any dwarf I had ever seen: clean-shaven, strawberry blond hair pulled back tight, an open tunic showcasing a rather impressive amount of chest hair, and a very unique-looking crossbow strapped to his back.

“You must be the Grey Warden I’ve been hearing so much about.” He presumed.

“How could you possibly know that? You only just got here.”

“I’m… well connected.” The dwarf gave me a cheeky grin. “Varric Tethras. A pleasure to meet you, Warden.” He offered me his hand for a shake.

“Scarlett.” I gave him my hand as he brought it to his lips for a quick peck. And I blushed. I couldn’t help it. The dwarf practically oozed charm and even though he was roughly half my height, I couldn’t deny the fact that he was handsome. Yikes. I only hoped Alistair didn’t notice.

“You’re from the surface?” I inquired.

“It’s… a long story, and I’m certain you’re short on time. But I have been told you’ve recently spoken with King Bhelen. If you could point me in the right direction, I seek an audience with him.”

“You’re a dwarf and you don’t even know your way around Orzammar?” I asked, growing more and more confused by the little man with each passing minute.

“Orzammar is not my home. I was born and raised on the surface. Typically my brother handles all our dealings here, but he’s currently… engaged elsewhere. And since Bhelen has been so outspoken about strengthening ties with surface traders, I thought it best to strike while the iron’s hot.”

“... Right. I hope you don’t take offense to this, Varric, but you are the least dwarven dwarf I have ever met.”

He let out a good laugh at that one. “I am still a dwarf, Warden. If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And—”

“And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” I finished the quote for him.

“Well be still my heart, a beautiful Grey Warden and a bibliophile to boot.”

I blushed. Again. Ugh.

“Speaking of books, I’ve been working on a little something of my own.” He rummaged around in the satchel he wore around his waist and produced some strung-together parchment with words scrawled across it.

My eyes lit up. A new book! I grabbed it greedily from the dwarf’s hand and flipped through the pages and smelled the paper. There’s just something so magical about the smell of a book.

“Would you have any interest in reading it? I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

“I’d love to, but I’m afraid we’re leaving, and our paths likely won’t cross again.”

“Take it anyway.” He smiled brightly. “I have a feeling this isn’t the last we’ll see of one another. Until next time, Scarlett.” The dwarf bowed his head and made his way through the Commons, getting lost in the crowd.

I reopened the door leading into the Hall of Heroes, only to have an impatient Oghren waiting for me on the other side, tapping his foot and folding his arms across his chest.

“About sodding time you got here. Sheesh.” He greeted. 

“You’ve been waiting for me?” I asked.

“Do we have a Blight to end or not?”

“... _We?_ ”

“Did I stutter? You don’t think you stand a chance against the darkspawn with me, do ya?”

“Well, I—”

“Didn’t think so. Let’s get a move on.”

The ginger dwarf turned around and led the way forward toward the exit. I just stood there for a moment with a dumbfounded look on my face.

“...What just happened?” Alistair posed, totally puzzled.

“I… I think we now have an Oghren.” I replied.

“Splendid. Just when I thought our task could not possibly get more unpleasant, we add a pungent halfwit with no concept of personal space or boundaries to our little concoction of misery.” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“Tis true. Typically I am not sensitive to such things but, the man smells like a walking brewery.” Zevran added.

“Be that as it may, Oghren can wield an ax like no one I’ve ever seen. I’m certainly not going to turn away his help.” I explained. And I meant it. Although, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t more to my decision to allow him to join us. He’d lost his wife. His family. I knew what that was like. I knew how much a distraction from the pain of such a loss could help you cope. And fighting darkspawn and defeating the Blight, as it turns out, is one doozy of a distraction. A distraction I was all too happy to give him.

Oghren paused once he reached the double doors leading to the surface. I’d wager he’d not spent much time outside of Orzammar, and I could sense the apprehension radiating off of him. I stepped in front of him and pushed the doors open, taking the deepest breath in I could and filling my lungs to capacity with the glorious smells of snow-covered earth, of pine needles, of moss, and, thanks to the man standing beside me, of ale.

Ah well. The more the merrier.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little research and back in medieval times, wine was indeed sometimes used in testing for pregnancy. The more you know... 
> 
> I also tried to get a straight answer on whether or not Bhelen actually marries Rica, but it remains unclear, even in the Wiki. For the purposes of this story, they will marry. 
> 
> You'll likely see some familiar quotes in this chapter: Oscar Wilde, Machiavelli, Shakespeare. I like to pepper in such things now and again for flavor. :) 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	46. The Monster Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As reasons mount to pay Kinloch Hold another visit, Scarlett struggles with her own morality. She finds some clarity, however, by talking things through with a very unlikely kindred spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to read, comment, and leave kudos. I really appreciate it and can't wait to hear your thoughts on this one!

I closed my eyes for a moment and let the chill in the air envelop me like a silken blanket. Everything smelled so crisp and clean, so fresh and open—it was a very welcome change. I slowly reopened my eyelids and looked up into that impossibly huge sky, so vast and expansive in all its azure splendor, adorned with wispy billows of ivory softness. Maker, once you’re trapped inside a place with no windows for weeks on end where the recycled air is stale and lifeless, once you’re encased by the oppressive weight of the solidified ground above you and below, once you’re sweating and blistered from the brutal heat of the earth’s core, you really, really gain a new appreciation for the great outdoors. Meatball clearly shared in the sentiment; he pushed past all of us and began rolling around in the snow as soon as the doors were opened wide enough for him to fit through, Maker bless him.

Then, true to form, Oghren destroyed my moment of zen by groaning and almost... whimpering, his breaths fast, labored, and heavy.

“Oghren?” I called to check on him.

“Gah… give me a moment.” He demanded as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

In an attempt to comfort him I placed a hand on his shoulder, which he, of course, shrugged off almost immediately. Hey, can’t say I didn’t try.

“By the stone. I feel like I’m… I’m about to fall off the world with all that sky up there.” He confessed as he looked up at the big indigo emptiness above us.

“Are you sure you want to come with us? It’s okay to turn back. No one will think less of you.” I explained gently.

“If I could fight Randar Vollney’s second after downing fifteen lichen ales in half an hour, I’m not gonna be put off by a high sodding ceiling.” He laughed to himself for a moment before standing up straighter and taking a deep breath. “Welp, let’s get moving. We’re losing… whatchacallit? Daylight.”

“Where are we headed, Scarlett?” Leliana asked.

“East.” was my only reply as I began to walk down the steps leading away from Orzammar’s gates.

“That girl… you are going to help her aren’t you? You said you would…” She snuggled Schmooples before nestling him tight in her pack as she followed.

“I said no promises.” I reminded her.

“What girl?” Oghren inquired.

“Uh… What was her name? Donna?”

“Dagna.” Wynne corrected me. “She wishes to study at the Circle tower. Scarlett said she would ask the first enchanter if he would accept her.”

“I said maybe!” I protested. Andraste’s blood, apparently my companions had the memory of a goldfish.

“Ah, yeah, I know her. Been raving about that nonsense since she learned to talk, that one. But that uh, mage prison… that’s near Lake Calenhad, ain’t it?”

“It is NOT a prison.” Wynne insisted.

Morrigan let out a dry laugh. “So says the one who wanders free.”  

Wynne gave her a scolding glare, but before the conflict progressed further, Oghren interjected.  

“Whatever, just answer the sodding question.”

“Yes, it is. ...Why?”  I asked.

“Ah… No reason.”  The dwarf took the skin from his belt and took a big swig before belching. Charming.

Wynne was just staring at him, the disgust plain on her face. Oghren just wiggled his eyebrows and started making kissy-faces at the mage.  

I bit my lips into a thin line to quell my laughter, my shoulders shaking from the effort.

“I am always astounded by how little effort is required to amuse it.” Shale scoffed as she forced her way through the others to walk by my side.

“There was a time not so long ago where I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to laugh again.” I explained as I wiped the joyful tears from my eyes. “Let me have this, will ya?”  

The golem made a disgusted noise but opted to let it go.

“So, how are you doing, Shale?”

“I am superior to it in every way. Why should I feel anything but pride and contentment?” The golem retorted.

“I mean, how are you really? After all that nastiness in the Deep Roads… I’d imagine that’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, I do have a question for it, if it will indulge me.”

“Ask away.”

“It chose to side with Caridin and destroy the Anvil of the Void. I agree with its decision, and yet the Paragon Branka was the reason it ventured into the Deep Roads in the first place.”

“Thanks for the recap.” I smirked.

“My question is, why did it choose to defy her? It could not know for certain that Caridin would be able to assist it with the dwarves.”

“Sometimes you just have to do what’s right. Knowing what that thing could do… especially if it fell into the wrong hands… I couldn’t allow that. Even if we didn’t get the aid we sought, at least I would find solace in knowing I did the right thing, in the end.”

“That was… quite the risk. I am pleased that it worked out as it did. At any rate, I wanted to thank it. It gave Caridin the end he wanted, and I am pleased to have been a part of it.”  
“Of course.” I smiled at the golem. “But you didn’t answer my question. How are you, Shale?”

“I… will have to think on Caridin’s words to me. It was… a great deal to absorb.”

I nodded. “I can only imagine. I’m still having a rough time coming to terms with the fact that you’re a she.”

“I did not think it needed to be said. It has never told me what gender it is, has it?”

“You… you just don’t seem—”

“What? Should I wear a flower on my head? Should I take up an interest in knitting?”

“I think Wynne has the knitting thing covered.” I quipped in attempt to lighten the tone of the conversation. Apparently I’d struck a nerve. Yikes.  

“The truth is that whatever gender I was is irrelevant now. I am a golem. I have no gender. It will not become an issue, I trust?”

“So long as you keep your eyes off Alistair, we should be fine. I’ve seen you sending those come-hither stares, trying to bait him with your feminine wiles. I’m onto you.” I grinned. I know, I know. Teasing a golem is probably a bad life decision. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.

“Oh ho ho. I can tell that this is going to be a whole pile of laughs. Oh yes. Comedy gold mine.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Come. Let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?”

I had just begun to giggle when I heard the murmurs of two men arguing not far from our location. I shut up and held my fist in the air to signal my companions to stop dead in their tracks while I crept into the tall grasses nearby to listen more closely. Everyone else was on high alert immediately and followed my lead to make themselves less conspicuous. Huh… guess we were getting pretty good at this.

“Get your asses off Bann Telmen’s land. We won’t bend knee to Loghain.” The first man demanded. He was an early favorite.

“Loghain is the Regent. He demands your—” countered the second before being interrupted by the first.

“We’re not Orlesian lick-spittles. We owe no man our allegiance! Leave!”

“Take their lands by force, men! Regent’s orders!”  

Before I even had a chance to figure out if we should get involved, Alistair was already charging forward with his favorite war cry: “FOR THE GREY WARDENS!”

“Well, Shale. Looks like you may get your wish sooner rather than later. Let’s go!” I ordered as the rest of us drew our weapons and rushed to join the battle.

And with that, we got our first taste of the civil war that had broken out in Ferelden. I knew it was happening, of course, but we’d been so busy working to secure those treaties that it had almost been too easy to find perfectly legitimate reasons to avoid it. Now that we were right there in the thick of it… it was a strange feeling. I know I should have blindly hated Loghain’s men. I shouldn’t have hesitated for an instant before I drove my sword through each one until they sprayed crimson and gasped for air as they desperately clung to their last moments of life. But it had been awhile since I’d fought another _person_ —barring the whole Branka fiasco. Darkspawn, spiders, golems, it’s pretty easy to kill them all without giving it a second thought. These men, though, these Loghain disciples, they thought they were doing the right thing, just as we did. They thought they were being loyal to the cause, protecting Ferelden against the Ostagar traitors, same as us. And with each life I took, I couldn’t help but hear Morrigan’s voice in my head—that I enjoyed the killing, that it brought me pleasure. What Loghain did at Ostagar and everything he’d done since was monstrous… but in wronging me, had he created a monster?

“Search them.” I ordered once the hard-fought battle was won and we were done exchanging pleasantries with the men we’d fought beside. “These were Loghain’s men. We might be able to gain some insight on what terror he’s planning to unleash next.”

We’d found some coin, some rations, standard-issue weapons, blah blah blah. Nothing particularly useful. I was just about to give up when I spied a piece of parchment sticking out of Loghain’s Sergeant’s pack. It read:

 _The Red Queen may prove to be more trouble than she’s worth. I never could bring myself to trust her kind. I’ll be glad once she’s served her purpose and we can be rid of her. In the meantime, keep her under a watchful eye, lest it be you I rid myself of instead._ _—LM_

Hmm… interesting… He couldn’t have meant Queen Anora… I’d met her long ago when we were just two naive children (though she was quite a few years older than me—and just looooved pointing that out at any given opportunity) with affluent, big-shot fathers. Red was so not her color. Red was a color of fire, of power, passion. Anora? She was always so… perfectly composed. Frigid and calculating. And besides, Loghain was a complete asshole, but relishing the thought of offing his own daughter? That seemed like a stretch. So who in the Maker’s name…

“Did you find anything?” Alistair interrupted my train of thought as I stood up and placed the note in my pack.

“I don’t know. Maybe... I need to give it some thought. You?”

Alistair gave me an incredulous look, but he opted to let it go. “No, nothing in their pockets but lint. Oh, and one did have some Elfroot. What a find! It’s not like you can’t sneeze in Ferelden without running into some of that blasted plant.” He gave me a smile but something about killing those men and finding that rather ominous-sounding note had definitely brought down my mood.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I gave him my most reassuring smile, which, judging from his unchanged expression, failed to convince him I meant it. Damnit.

“Scarlett…” He called waiting for me to change my answer to something that wasn’t complete bullshit.

I grabbed him by the collar and slowly pulled him in for a kiss. That was usually enough to shut him up effectively.

“I’m fine. Really.” I smiled at him again as genuinely as I could.

“Alright. You know where to find me if you need me.” I could tell he was still concerned, but he was willing to let me come to him on my own terms. And I really, really appreciated that. I pinched his cheek lovingly before turning around and announcing we should resume our travels.

It wasn’t long into our renewed journey before I heard Oghren emitting a low “heh heh heh” behind my back.

“What’s so funny?” Alistair asked.

“So, with the boss, aye?”

“...Pardon?”

“You and the boss. Rollin’ your oats.”

I felt my shoulders shirk with tension and embarrassment as soon as I got a sense of where the conversation was headed. Of course he’d ask. Everyone asks, eventually. Everyone just _has_ to say something.

“I don't know—” Alistair began.

“Polishing the footstones.”

“—what you’re—”

“Tapping the midnight still, if you will.”

“What are you going on about?” Alistair asked again.

“Forging the moaning statue. Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat.”

“...Are you just making these up right now?”

“Nope. Been saving ‘em. But there is one thing I gotta know.”

“Oh boy, this should be good.” Alistair sighed.

“So, uh, what do you do with her legs?”

“...Her legs?”

My skin grew tingly and my cheeks burned red as soon as he posed the question. I didn’t even fully understand what he was getting at, but it embarrassed me all the same. Ugh.

“By all the sodding ancestors boy, look at ‘em! Those legs are practically up to her neck! You must do something with ‘em. That’s the problem with dwarven legs. They’re useless as an accessory.”

“I didn’t do anything with them. I don’t know what—”

“Ah, say no more. Just got ‘em out of the way and went about your business. Good on ya, son.”

“Um… thanks…” Alistair offered, the bewilderment plain in his hesitant tone.

“Hey Warden!” The dwarf called as he quickened his pace to catch up to me at the front of the pack.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before responding, hoping and praying he wouldn’t notice my blatant mortification at the inquiry into mine and Alistair’s sex life. As soon as he looked up at my face and burst into a merciless fit of laughter, however, something told me my wish had not come true.

“HAHAHA! Why, you look redder than a spit-roasted nug!”

“Yes. Hilarious.” I rolled my eyes.

“Aww, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Just makin’ conversation is all. Makes the trip go by faster.”

“Oh yeah. Time is just whizzing by.” I remarked dryly. “Did you need something?”

“Well, I’ve uh… been meaning to talk to you.” His voice dropped to a volume lower than it had been since I’d met him. This can’t be good.

“Oh?”

“Well, I was thinking. I uh, well, I do know some people out here on the surface. A person, actually. Girl I knew in Orzammar back in the day.” 

I raised a brow as a smirk crept across my lips—my turn to ask inappropriately personal questions. Take that, dwarf! “A girl you knew or a girl you _knew?_ ”

“Huh? Oh, you mean, were we rudding? Heh heh heh… Ooh aye.” He let a wily grin creep across his lips, his eyes growing hungry and glossy as he recalled his encounters with this mystery woman.

Of course he wouldn’t be embarrassed. Why would he? Bah.  

“After Branka left for the Deep Roads. Name’s Felsi. She was a fiery one. I’m sure she’s forgiven me by now. Thought maybe I’d track her down. See how she’s been living.”

“Do you know where to find her?” I asked.

“Tried to look her up the last time I was at Lake Calenhad. She wasn’t at work at the inn. At home with her sick mother they said. I figured it was just the ancestors’ way of telling me something. But I keep thinking about her…” He admitted in his usual gruff voice now colored with a hint of whimsy.

Eesh. Full disclosure: I was not intending to go back to Lake Calenhad. We finished our business there and we had a metric fuckton of ground to cover before we could reach the Brecilian Forest. But I did, you know, kill the man’s wife. What kind of person would I be if I denied him this chance at happiness? Still… did we really have the time to spare? Gah! Why is nothing ever easy?!

“I’m not saying no, but let me get back to you on that one Oghren, okay?” I gave him a weak smile, which he did not return.

“Sure, sure. Take your time.” was what he said, but his dour facial expression suggested that he definitely felt otherwise. Crap.

“Scarlett… may I speak with you for a moment? In private?” Wynne asked. Ugh. I so didn’t like the sound of that.

I gave her a nod before addressing the group. “It’s getting late. Let’s set up camp and we’ll continue on tomorrow.”

While everyone was busy unloading and unpacking and hunting and whatever else, I approached Wynne and walked with her to a secluded little spot where prying eyes and ears would not reach us.

“Please tell me you have good news.”

“Well… it’s… not what you were hoping for, I’m sure.” Wynne explained. And my heart sank and pounded in my chest at the same time. Before the panic truly set in, however, I managed to shake it off. Hold your horses, Scarlett. Answers first. Freakout after.

“So, what are you saying? I’m… pregnant?”

She rummaged through her pack and held up the broken shards of what was the lyrium vial that contained our little experiment.

“I’m saying we’re back to square one. I tried to stay clear of those men but… well, it got crushed by one of them during the fight. I’m sorry.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Going back to maybe was sure as shit better than a confirmed positive.

“Oh my fuck, Wynne. Never do that to me again.”

“Language!” she scolded before continuing. “You… you aren’t upset?”

“I mean, it sucks, but we can just do it again, right?”

“Look around, Scarlett. Do you see any wine peddlers nearby?”

I took a look around and blast, she was right. There was nothing but trees and vacant fields as far as the eye could see.

“Point taken. So, what do we do? What are my options?”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do immediately. I know you’re of two minds about returning to the Circle, but I would have considerably more resources at my disposal there…” Wynne explained.

I hung my head. I had been defeated. 

“Fine. I forfeit. We’ll make a brief stop.”

Wynne made no pains to hide her satisfaction with my decision. Her eyes lit up and a slow smile graced her thin, painted lips. “Wonderful! I have missed the children so. And Irving. Even Gregoir.” She giggled. “It will be lovely to see them again.”

“Welp, it might not be under the best circumstances, but it’s nice to see you smile, Wynne.” I offered. She brought me in for a quick hug.

“Hang in there, Scarlett. Whatever the end result, you will get through this. You’re strong, smart, and capable. The Maker may give us obstacles, but if anyone can overcome them, it’s you. Now, let’s head back and I’ll whip us up some supper.”

I gave her a grateful smile as we walked back to rejoin the others.

I always loved whenever Wynne cooked. Regardless of the actual dish, somehow you could always just taste… home. Oghren even shared some of his prize ale to wash it down. I don’t know where he was storing it, but he had a seemingly endless supply. It truly boggles the mind. At any rate, it was rather good. Potent, but good.  

It wasn’t long before everyone turned in for the night, and for the first time in a long time, Alistair and I shared one of our time-honored fireside chats.

“I almost forgot how beautiful you look in the moonlight.” He complimented as he laced his fingers in mine. I met his eyes and brought his knuckles up to my lips and kissed them one by one, earning me a wide smile. “Is everything alright with Wynne? You two disappeared for quite a while.”

“Everything’s fine. I’ve asked her to help me with something and we’ve run into a small hitch. That’s all. We’ll get it sorted at the Circle.”

“Ah, so decided to give in, did you?” He chuckled softly. “You old softy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah. Seems we have some unfinished business there after all.”

“Like what?” He asked. I just gave him a look that said not to press me.

“Fine, fine, I know when I shouldn’t pry. But it might be a good thing, heading back there. I know he’s not really my concern, but I’ve been meaning to check on Connor. Make sure he’s being treated okay and all that since leaving Redcliffe. He is, well, sort of family.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, I had an epiphany. The note… The Red Queen… Redcliffe… The Red(cliffe) Queen… Isolde. Loghain may have been talking about Isolde. Despite everything that had happened, she might still be planning to form an alliance with Loghain and become his queen. Fanfuckingtastic.

“Scarlett… you’re doing the lip-bitey thing. What are you thinking about?”

“Huh? Oh. Um… Nothing. I mean...” I stammered in a desperate attempt to stall. I needed to speak with Connor. See if he had any insight about what Isolde was truly planning. She was Orlesian. To even be granted an audience with Loghain, she must have had something pretty damn compelling up her sleeve. And I needed to keep Alistair blissfully unaware. When it comes to Isolde, as the events at Redcliffe proved, Alistair was like a charging bull fixated on a red cape. I needed him clear-headed, at least until I knew what was really going on.

“Time’s up, Scarlett…” He teased.

“Wynne is helping me figure out if I’m… if we’re… expecting.” I blurted out. I decided that changing the subject and going with something true was better than trying to make up a lie on the spot. Alistair knew me too well by now. He’d see right through it.

“OH! Why didn’t you say something?! I could have been there! I could have helped!”

I let out a big sigh. “I don’t know. This whole situation is just so confusing and tortuous and I didn’t want to worry you over what might be nothing. I know this is the last thing we need right now. I just—”

“Hey…” He placed two fingers gingerly under my chin and lifted so my eyes met his. “I love you. And that won’t change, no matter what.” He placed the other hand on my lower stomach. “And I will love whoever else comes along. Totally and unconditionally. We’re in this together. All the way. Okay?” He kissed my forehead gently before finding my mouth, a soft, light brush of lips.

“I love you, too.” I whispered as I rested my forehead against his and felt warm tears stream down my face. I wanted to say, “And I don’t deserve you,” but it would have just ended in an unwinnable argument, and tonight I just wanted to be held and kissed and, well, loved. Selfish, but true all the same. Maybe I really am a monster.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

…

We decided to take a small boat across Lake Calenhad rather than travel by foot the whole way round, and though it made me violently ill, it did save us some time. Apparently I did not take after my mother’s side of the family when it came to getting my sea legs. Blech.

When we docked, much to my chagrin, Carroll was there to “greet” us.

“Back again? What is this now, the third time? Don’t you have a big bad Blight to stop or some such nonsense?”

I just glared at him, my nausea still in full swing.

“Yikes, you don’t look so good, Warden. Is your skin usually that greenish color?”

I ignored him and instructed everyone to wait for Wynne, Alistair, and I at the inn. There was some grumbling and groaning but ultimately they did what they were told. Point for me.

We were ferried over to the tower and were greeted by the warm, smiling face of First Enchanter Irving and the scowling, brooding disposition of the tortured templar we’d freed during our first visit. Quite the mixed bag. Irving looked tired, but at ease. He was clearly working overtime to restore the Circle, but found happiness in that work. The templar looked somewhat healthier than when we’d first seen him inside that barrier, his cheeks a little fuller along with his muscular frame, his curly blond hair had grown back in where he’d pulled it out, but happiness? That was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah, welcome back friends.” Irving received us in his usual slightly warbly but soothing tenor voice. Wynne dropped all pretense and gave him a hug almost immediately.

“Irving. It is so wonderful to see you alive and well. How is everyone?” She asked.

“You’ll be pleased to know that the Circle is well on the way to making a full recovery, and we will be ready to fight at your side when the time comes.” Irving reassured us. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

I slowly let go of Alistair’s arm and tried standing on my own for the first time since we’d come ashore. I breathed in deep and tried to shake off the remaining effects of my sea-sickness so I could answer him.

“Forgive me, Warden, but you look rather peaked. Are you ill?”

“Only when I try to move. Or look around. Or generally do anything.” I tried for a smile as I fought off another wave of nausea.  

“I believe I have some ginger in my quarters, Scarlett. That might help. I’ll be right back.” Wynne excused herself to fetch the remedy.

“Irving, we’ve just come from Orzammar, and there is a young dwarven girl there, Dagna, who wishes to study under your tutelage.”

“A dwarf? Indeed? You have piqued my curiosity. It is common knowledge that dwarves lack the… aptitude for spellcraft. She will never be able to weave the simplest magic, no matter how hard she tries.”

I nodded. “She knows. I believe it’s the theory of magic itself that captivates her. She is most eager to learn, to put it mildly.” I explained.

“I cannot deny anyone—dwarf or human—the chance to learn. I’ll send a messenger to this Dagna of Orzammar. This path will not be easy, but if she chooses it, then she is welcome here at the Circle.”

“Thank you, First Enchanter.” I stopped there, but Irving could sense there was more on the tip of my tongue.

“Was there something else, Warden?”

“Well, there is a matter of a more… personal nature, Irving. The young boy we saved at Redcliffe, Connor. Is he here?”

“Ah, yes. He arrived a few weeks ago with Jowan. I confess I was surprised to see him again so soon.”

“How… how is he?” Alistair asked cautiously.

“He keeps to himself, mostly. Even takes his meals in his room. There is a… profound sadness within that boy. After what happened I am hardly surprised but… there is no potion or spell that can fix what ails him, I’m afraid.”

“May we see him?” I asked.

“You are welcome to try, but he does not seem to take kindly to visitors. Cullen, would you mind showing them to Connor’s quarters?”

He gave Irving a nod before coldly addressing Alistair and I. “This way.”

“You’re looking… better…” Alistair observed trying desperately to melt the templar’s frosty disposition.

Cullen let out a harsh laugh. “We are men of action. Lies do not become us.”

“I was just trying to—”

“Just trying to what, exactly? Make pleasant conversation? Pretend everything worked out just fine since you Wardens swooped in and saved the day?”

“No no no. Not at all. Swooping is bad.” Alistair smirked at me and I smiled back at the inside joke. The templar, however…

“Well, I have news for you. Everyone is still dead. My _brothers_ are still dead.” His voice began to quake with tears as he stopped in front of what was presumably Connor’s door. He hung his head and spoke low and soft. “Do you know what this little monster has done?”

“He’s a child, Cullen. And yes, we were there. We saw what happened. And we ended it.” I answered back.

He turned around and got right in my face, his brown eyes almost red with rage.

“When will you learn?! There is no ‘end’ to this! So long as mages exist, so too does the pain and destruction they inevitably leave in their wake. They should all be destroyed. Every last one of them.”

I narrowed my gaze and looked deeply into those burning umber irises.

“I appreciate what you’ve been through, and I sympathize, I really do.” I took a step closer to him so there was less than an inch between us. I so was not fucking around. “But so help me, Cullen, if you harm anyone, especially the little boy on the other side of that door, the next time we meet, you will taste my blade. Am I in any way unclear?”  

He held my gaze for a moment, the raw ire in his stare giving way to an overpowering sadness. 

“Then I pray we never meet again, my lady.” He whispered, gave me a nod, and took his leave.

“He’s… broken, isn’t he?” Alistair asked me.

I nodded solemnly.

“I knew him, you know. From before. Did I ever tell you that?”

“What do you mean you knew him?” I inquired.

“Back when I was undergoing templar training. He joined after me and was admittedly a much quicker study so we didn’t do much together, but I had seen him around. He probably doesn’t even recognize me…” He paused as he took a moment to remember days long past. “He was just so eager back then. So excited to serve. Basically the opposite of yours truly.” He gave me a half smile. “To see him like this…” the smile faded as he looked at the broad silhouette of his fellow templar becoming engulfed by the darkness.

“He’s just about one bad day away from doing something really, really stupid. I’ll speak with Gregoir before we leave about it. Maybe he’ll have a solution.” I paused pensively as I readied my knuckles to rap on Connor’s door. “Ready?”

Alistair gave me a nod and I knocked twice.

“Leave me.” was all he said.

“Connor? It’s… it’s Scarlett. The Grey Warden. Do you... remember me?” I called through the still-closed door. Nothing. “I need to speak with you. Please.”

I heard footsteps approach and the door opened ever so slowly. As soon as his eyes landed on Alistair, he slammed it shut immediately.

“You didn’t say anything about him!” He wailed.

“What did I do?” Alistair mouthed silently, brow raised in bewilderment. I just shrugged.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t wish to see Alistair.” I explained.

“Did you think I’d forgotten? I might be young, but I’m not stupid. He’s the man who called for Mother’s execution! Go away!”

“I’m also the man she tried to murder.” Alistair muttered under his breath. I rubbed his back lovingly to assuage his growing anger.

“I’ll try and get through to him. Why don’t you see if you can find Wynne?” I asked. He gave my forehead a kiss and headed down the hall.

“Connor, it’s just me now.” I tenderly called into the door before taking a slightly sterner tone than I had previously. “It is very important that I speak with you. Lives may be at stake. Please. Open the door.”

“Jowan told me what you did for me, Warden. And I am grateful, but… you promise he left?”

“I promise. It’s just you and me.” 

The door slowly opened and I gave him a weak smile when he looked up at me. He looked better than he had when he was possessed, but he still did not look like a healthy little boy. He was pale, even paler than I, with dark circles around his sunken eyes and matted hair. He opened the door a little wider and that’s when I detected the little cuts across his forearms. He noticed my eyes lingering there and moved to adjust his sleeves to cover the lacerations immediately.

“Hi. May I come in?”

He nodded slowly and moved out of the way of the doorframe.

“What… what are you doing here?”

“We were in the neighborhood. Figured we’d stop by for a visit. Alistair and I have been worried about you.”

“Pft. Why should he care a lick about me? Why should you?” He crossed his arms in a huff as he turned away from me.

“He told me just a few hours ago that he thinks of you as family. I know he said some… uh... harsh things about your mother but… well… your mother is not without blame, Connor.”

He gave me a heavy sigh and hung his head. “I know.”

“And as for me, well, I saved your life once. Think of me checking in on you as making sure it was time well spent.” I smiled brightly at my half-joke, hoping to see a hint of the child he really was in return. Nothing. Not even the inkling of a smile. Allllrighty then. Moving on.

“As a Grey Warden, I’m a guardian, of sorts. I protect people, at all costs. You know that, right?”

He nodded.  

“So tell me. What’s with the cuts on your arms? Is someone here hurting you?”

He tugged at the sleeves of his robe again to make sure his forearms were completely covered before recoiling and sliding his body down the wall in the corner of the small room, trying to hide out right there in the open.

“Connor…” I called as I knelt down to get on his level. “I can protect you. I promise I can if you’ll only let me.”

“I’ll get in trouble.” He whispered as he pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them.

“You won’t get in trouble. I’ll make sure of it. Please, just tell me what happened. Who did this to you? Was it Cullen?”

“I… I did it.” He whispered as he looked away from me in shame.

“...You did what?”

“I did it. I cut myself. I thought maybe if I bled enough the magic would leave me and… and...” warm tears began to stream down his flushed cheeks, “father and mother wouldn’t be ashamed of me anymore.”

“Oh Connor…” And though it was very uncharacteristically Scarlett, I wrapped that little boy up in my arms and held him tight and rocked him slowly as he wept. My heart just broke for him.

“I just want this to go away.” He whimpered as his eyes continued to bawl and his nose continued to run. Then he pulled away and looked deeply into my eyes before asking, “Please. Can’t you just make it go away?”

“...Can I tell you a secret?” I asked.

He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve and blinked the tears away from his eyes as he nodded.

“I didn’t want to be a Grey Warden.”

“You… you didn’t? But—”

“Nope, I sure didn’t. I lost my family, too. And I prayed for days that I’d wake up and it would all just be a bad dream. I wanted the same thing—for things to go back to the way they were before, for all of it to go away. Becoming a Grey Warden was something I had to do, rather than something I wanted to do. But you know what?”

“What?” he sniffled.

“I know now that this is who I was meant to be, Connor. There is a kind of peace in knowing who you truly are and embracing that person. You can lie to others, but you can never lie to yourself. I am now proud to be a Grey Warden, and someday, you will be proud to be a mage. And until that day comes, just be Connor—you don’t need to be anyone other than that.”

“I don’t think I can ever be proud of this, Warden. I killed so many people… I terrorized my home… I—”

“Connor, you must know that was not you. I’ve met demons before. It’s a nasty business. They’re cunning and powerful and will do just about anything to get what they want.”

“I’ve been reading about them since I got here. They feed off your innermost desires. What if I _wanted_ father out of the way? What if I _wanted_ to rule Redcliffe by myself? What if… I’m just like mother? Another Guerrin monster, like the templar said…”  His voice trailed off until it became a barely audible whisper and terror filled his eyes at the thought of it.

“Do you remember back in Redcliffe, when your father almost had Jowan executed?” I asked.

He gave me a slow nod.

“Do you remember what you said? That you stand up for the chance that every man can be better. Even Jowan. And even you. I was so impressed, so moved by your conviction. Has that wonderful spark I saw in you been snuffed out so soon?”

He hung his head and his eyes fell to the floor. I placed two fingers under his chin so I could look into his eyes.

“We can’t change the past, Connor. But we can fight with everything we are for a better future. If being a Grey Warden has taught me anything, it’s that. Fight, boy. Fight like there’s no tomorrow, because there’s no guarantee there will be. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He confirmed, a new glint of determination in his green eyes.

“Good.” I smiled. “What happened to Jowan anyway?” I asked. Connor seemed like he could use a change of subject.

“Down in the dungeon. He’ll be tried in the coming weeks.”

I nodded in acknowledgment, trying my best to figure out how to approach the whole Isolde situation delicately.

“Was he good to you? On your journey here? When you and your mother parted ways?”

“He protected me from bandits and he was nice to talk to. I mean, it was nice talking to someone else… like me.”

“That’s good.” I smiled and he almost returned it this time. Welp, it’s now or never Scarlett.

“Okay Connor, I’m going to be frank with you.”

“Can I still be Connor?” He asked. And wouldn’t you know it, I got a real smile that time.

I let out a slight chuckle and nodded. “Very funny.” I paused for a moment while I searched for my nerve. I’d finally gotten him to loosen up a little and I knew my inquiry would likely undo all my progress. Still, I had to know. For all our sakes.

“Alright here goes. The last time you saw your mom… did she mention where she was going? What her plans were?”

“No. All she said was for me to wait for her. And that things were going to be different soon.”

“Different how?” I asked.

“She didn’t say. She just kissed me goodbye and left. I figured she was headed back to Orlais as father demanded. ...Why?”

“I have reason to believe she might be planning something. And I need to know what that is before more people get hurt.”

“She hasn’t been to visit, but she did say she would be writing to me as soon as she could. If she says anything, I’ll tell Irving and he can get a message to you, I hope. No one else will get hurt because of me. I swear it.” 

I gave him a hug before standing up.

“Thanks, Connor. I appreciate your help. Just promise me one more thing: No more cutting, okay?”

He looked down, the shy sadness overtaking him again as he nodded. I pinched his cheek and turned around to take my leave.

“Scarlett?” He called to my back. “...Do you think I’m a monster?”

I sighed and turned around to face him once more. “I don’t know, Connor. I’ve been struggling with that question a lot lately, about myself, I mean. Maybe you are a monster. Maybe we both are.”

He made no pains to hide the shock on his face at my response. “Aren’t grown-ups supposed to make you feel better?”

I let out a short laugh. “Guess I’m not all that great at being a grown-up.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better at all.” He frowned.

I nodded. “I know. Me neither. I think… maybe we’re all monsters. You just need to figure out the kind of monster you want to be—the kind who razes cities or the kind who builds them. The kind who kills people or the kind who saves them.”

“What kind of monster are you?” He asked with wide eyes looking up at me, desperately seeking a kindred spirit, a companion, someone who understands.

“Me? I’m… I’m not sure. I’ve seen a lot of shit, Connor. Done a lot of things, and I’m not sure I’ve always made the right call. All I know for certain is this: Monsters are real, and sometimes the only way to beat them is to become the bigger monster.”


	47. Flesh and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wynne finally provides the answer Scarlett has desperately been seeking. Our favorite warden is thrown for a loop, however, by Alistair's reaction. Meanwhile, bonds strengthen not only between Scarlett and her companions, but also between Scarlett and Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am TERRIBLY sorry for the long wait, dear readers. It has been one crazy summer and I did write a one-shot for a fellow fan, which took up some time. But Scarlett is finally back, baby! I hope you enjoy this chapter. More notes at the end, and as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!

As I tried once again to take my leave, Connor wrapped his small arms around me as though I were all he had in the world. I could only guess that, at that moment, that’s who he felt I was. After the rather traumatic events at Redcliffe, he was so desperate for someone to connect with, to confide in, to care about. And for once, instead of freezing up and letting my default state of awkwardness and unease set in when it comes to interaction with children, I just let him cling to me for as long as he needed to. I patted his back gently and assured him everything was going to be alright in the end, though it was a promise I knew I shouldn’t make. Not these days. Not with this war. But it was a promise I made nonetheless—the kid had been through enough shit for one lifetime already, and he wasn’t even a teenager yet. Yep, just when you think things can’t possibly get any worse, along comes puberty.   

“Thanks, Scarlett. Maybe you’re not such a bad grown-up after all.” He gave me a slow smile as he let his arms fall back at his sides.

“Shhh. Don’t go spreading that around. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.” I winked and smiled back as I bent my knees to get closer to his eye level and rested my hands on his shoulders. “Now, I have some things to take care of. I’m not sure when I’ll be back… it could be a long time from now. But I _will_ come back. And when I do, I expect you to be running the place. Got it?”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll try not to mess up too badly.”

I considered his counteroffer, then nodded and gave his shoulders a light squeeze before letting go. “Deal.”

“Warden?” He called.

“Connor?”

“I’ve um… been really confused about a lot of things lately. With all that’s happened, I don’t really know who to turn to or who to trust or what to believe. I guess that’s part of growing up, I don’t know. But for whatever it’s worth, I just want you to know, I believe in _you_. Those other monsters stand a chance.” The little mage assured me.

His eyes were alight, as though new life were breathed back into him as soon as the last word passed his lips. It’s so easy to forget what it’s like to be a child, a creature so helpless, so desperate for a hero to make sense of this crazy world they’ve barely gotten a taste of. I’ve never been a huge fan of the “h-word,” truth be told. If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times: I’m not a hero. I’m just a girl struggling against the current day in and day out to try and keep the world from drowning in the impending flood. And I’ve definitely made my share of mistakes. But to see the look on that boy’s face as he said “I believe in you,” well, let’s just say it made the whole damn struggle worth it.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. “I… thank you, Connor. That… it’s worth a lot.” I smiled brightly as we heard a knock on the door.

“Scarlett?” Alistair called. “Are you still in there?”

As soon as Connor heard his voice, it was as though someone behind his eyes blew the light out. His irises grew cold and dark, but his expression remained soft—as though his love for his mother was internally warring with his knowledge of what she’d become.

“Cut Alistair some slack, would you? He’s been through a lot, too.” I asked the boy before moving to open the door. “Hi.” I smiled warm and wide before giving Alistair a quick but forceful kiss. My little heart to heart with Connor had made me feel… well… I don’t quite know how to explain it, but there were some feelings of hope and comfort and even optimism whirling inside me, despite that bloody unstoppable flood I’d mentioned earlier.

“Hi yourself.” Alistair seemed shocked at my change in demeanor, but ultimately that shock melted away and all that remained was that boyish grin that still made me weak in the knees. “Feeling better, then?” He asked as he ran his thumb over the apple of my cheek. I nodded slowly as Alistair looked past me to see Connor’s sour expression. I stepped out of the way of the two of them, sensing Alistair had something he felt he needed to get off his chest.

He got down on bended knee in the doorway, taking great care not to invade the boy’s space and appear humbled before him.

“Connor, I… I think I owe you an apology. When I said those things about Isolde back at Redcliffe I was very, very angry and I let that anger get the best of me. I don’t let that happen often, but when people I care about are threatened or hurt, well… it’s not pretty. I wasn’t thinking about how my words would affect you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Connor considered Alistair’s plea and I saw the light in his eyes slowly begin to return as they met one another’s gaze.

“I know why you did it. I know mother’s done some terrible things, but… I just… I can’t make myself hate her. I’m sorry. I hope you can understand that.”

Alistair gave the boy a nod of acknowledgment and offered Connor his hand for a shake as he rose back up to stand tall. “I would never ask that of you, Connor. She is your mother, after all. Nothing is more important than family.” Alistair took a moment to meet my eyes when he said that last bit and I gave him a smile. It was astonishing that after all he’d been through—Maric abandoning him, losing his mother, Eamon sending him to the monastery, finding out Goldanna was a money-grubbing witch—he still placed family on a pedestal. I guess, in a way, we were all each other had now. Family is what you make it, right?

He looked back at Connor when he felt the boy’s small hand in his and shook it firmly, but carefully.

“Well, now that the hatchet is somewhat buried, was there a reason you stopped by or…” I teased.

“Ah, yes. Wynne was asking after you. She said she needs another… sample…” He blushed profusely as soon as he said it. Wynne must have filled him in on the lovely details of our plan. Awesome.

“Right. Of course. I’ll see you around, Connor. Don’t forget our deal.” I smirked before I turned to walk past Alistair and out the door. Alistair began to follow, but Connor tugged on his shirt to stop him.

“Er… I’ll catch up. I guess.” Alistair offered, confused as he turned back to face the boy. I nodded and continued making my way to Wynne.

It should probably be noted that the Circle Tower is huge and filled with rooms that are almost identical to one another and I had no idea where Wynne’s chambers were. I kept popping my head into every unlocked room, but between very obviously not being a mage or a templar, I couldn’t help but feel like I stuck out like a sore thumb. A w k w a r d…

Finally, thank the Maker, one of the young mage apprentices Wynne was protecting the day we saved the tower found me.

“Warden, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. My name is Petra, we met briefly before—”

“I remember. Nice to see you again.” I offered politely. She gave me a hurried smile.

“Likewise. Now, if you’ll follow me.”

She all but sprinted down the corridor and led me to a corner room that was decidedly bigger than the others, though not much less dreary. The Circle tower wasn’t exactly all sunshine and roses. Still, Wynne called it home, and seeing her bustling about her extremely organized and sensibly decorated boudoir with a renewed sense of determination made me smile. She loved it here, that much was clear.

“Sooo… nice place you have here.” I smiled as I looked around. From the seemingly fresh-cut flowers (though I knew that was impossible; we’d been gone for months. Perhaps lyrium kept them so fresh looking, as it did with Alistair’s rose.) to the framed needlepoint pastoral scenes hanging on the wall to the smattering of drawings some of her younger apprentices made for her, the whole room was so very… Wynne.

“Thank you. I almost forgot how much I was missing it.” She took a look around the room and took a deep breath in. I did the same. Lilac. Wynne and everything she touched always smelled of lilac. “Your hand, please.”

“But Alistair said you needed another sample…” I questioned as I gave her my hand and she turned it palm-side up.

“I do.” She said matter-of-factly as she pulled a dagger seemingly out of nowhere and gave me a quick cut across the palm.

“Ouch!” I hissed. “What in the Maker’s name did you do that for?!”

“Oh Scarlett, really. You’ve cheated death more times than I can count and you balk at a measly scrape?” Wynne held my hand over a glass flask and squeezed so the blood dripped into it. “If you want to know with certainty, this is a much better and faster method than the one we tried before. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”

I looked around the room to make sure no one else was within view. Petra was standing guard by the closed door, her staff at the ready.

“Um… certainty sounds good but uh… couldn’t you get in major trouble for this? If anyone thought you were using blood magic to—”

“Scarlett, this is not blood magic. I would do nothing of the sort, and you know that. It’s just a simple test, nothing more.”

“How does it work?” I asked.

“Ever the curious one.” Wynne grinned. “Hormones, just as before. The process is a bit… complex, but suffice it to say your blood, lyrium, and some patience will provide you with the answer you have so desperately been seeking.”

A fist pounded at the door. “It’s me.” Alistair called.

Petra slowly, carefully, peeled the door open to allow him inside and only him.

“What did I miss?! Do we know what’s going on yet?! Are you alright?!” He asked frantically as he looked around the room and surveyed the scene, my wound still dripping blood. Maker, he seemed even more nervous than I was.

“Easy there, tiger. Calm down.” I rubbed his back soothingly with my good hand.

“Never in the history of calming down has anyone ever calmed down by being told to calm down.” He declared as he crossed his arms in a huff.

I let out a short giggle. “Fair point, but still. No pitter patter of little Warden feet just yet. I only just gave Wynne her sample.” I explained as I showed him my hand really wasn’t that bad and turned my attention back to Wynne. “How long is this going to take?”

“An hour. Two at most.” She explained as she cleaned and bandaged the fresh wound. “Why don’t you two go and wait at the inn? If I know our companions, they’re surely up to no good.” The elder mage suggested with a chuckle. “I will meet you there once we have our answer.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re… not wrong. I wonder how many ‘legendary’ Grey Wardens were part-time babysitters as well?”

“I know of at least three.” Alistair smirked as he took my hand and led me to the door. I met Petra’s eyes before we left.

“I’m sure this goes without saying but, none of this leaves this room.” I said it with authority, but without anger, hoping she’d take the hint but not be too put off. She gave me a single nod. I nodded back and off we went back to the Spoiled Princess to check on the kids—er… the others. Oy.

…

When we came ashore I was greeted by an apparently very peeved Oghren, his arms akimbo, his steely blue glare an equal mix of anger, apprehension, and excitement.  

“Where in the sodding ancestors’ name have you been?!”

“Taking care of some business. What are you doing out here?” I asked.

“Waiting for you so I can talk to Felsi, ya damn nug-licker!”

I raised a brow. “...Why is my presence required for this little reunion?”

“Look, you gotta back me up here. Don’t let my rugged good looks fool ya. Sometimes I need a little help in the sweet talk department.”

Alistair let a slow grin spread across his lips. “A silver-tongued demon like you?! I never would have guessed.”

“I know, right?!” Oghren shouted. “Anyway, will ya do it?”

“Uh… what exactly does ‘backing you up’ entail?” I asked.  

“Just heh… follow my lead, you know? And be ready to pry her off when she throws herself at me. We don’t want to make a scene here…” He gave it some thought before laughing in his usual slow, gruff, “heh heh heh” sort of way. “Well, don’t pry her off me _too_ soon. I mean, a little scene’s alright.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I rolled my eyes. “All right. Let’s go get her.”

“Aye!” He roared as he kicked the door open, strutting in like he owned the place. I just facepalmed and shook my head as I obediently followed. The things I do for my friends. Ugh.

“Are you sure you’re not a baker? Cuz you’ve got a sodding nice set of buns.”

Yep, that sure was Oghren’s opening line. And it was at that moment that I, Scarlett Cousland, managed to invent the double facepalm. It’s a tough move to pull off, and can only be done in moments of abject mortification, but you should totally try it sometime. It’s a fun one.

Felsi, while conventionally pretty with her gentle features and copper hair, looked utterly bored and disinterested outwardly. But I knew better. During my many travels I’d slowly gotten better at reading people, and regardless of how she appeared overall, I could tell her pupils dilated and her pulse quickened at the sight of Oghren—telltale signs she was interested in what my malodorous dwarven compadre was selling.

“Well, look what the nug dragged in. I should’ve known you were in the neighborhood by the stench. What are you doing here?”

“Just trying to kick back with a pint. Fighting darkspawn is a lot of sodding work, you know.”

Ah. The humble-brag. I’d come to know it well.

 _“You’re_ fighting darkspawn?” she asked as the cracks in her blasé facade began to appear.

Oghren turned to look at me and cleared his throat in the most obnoxious manner possible. Oh. Guess that’s my cue.

“This man took on an army of golems almost single-handedly.” I asserted with feigned awe and admiration.

“It was a bit of a pain, but it was a personal favor for the King of Orzammar, you understand.” He said smugly.

“Pft. The whole surface to choose from and you just happened to come to _my_ tavern?”

Hmph… back to playing hard-to-get, I see.  

“Er… well…” Oghren stammered.

I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Tell her you were brought together by the erratic vicissitudes of destiny.”

“Uh… it was fate, Felsi. What can I say?”

Close enough.

“Fate? The ancestors must have a sense of humor then.” Felsi said flippantly. We were going to be here all damn day at this rate.

“Oh for the love of... Just tell her you’ve been thinking about her.” I advised in another hurried whisper.

“I’ve been thinking about you, Felsi.” He said in a taunting, yet somehow sincere tone. Felsi just let out a frustrated sigh.

“What do you want, Oghren?” Felsi asked, finally giving up on the game. Ahh. Finally a direct question. Maker be praised.

“Nothin’. Just thought I’d see how you’re doin’, is all. Well, maybe that and grease up the bronto, if you know what I mean.”

“Oghren!” I chided.

“Well, you’ve seen me. You’ll have to go back to Orzammar for the bronto.” Felsi groaned.

Alright, enough pussyfooting around.

“Oghren, as much as I’ve loved this little reenactment of Cyrano de Bergerac, I’d very much like to get back to saving the world.” And as I’d suspected, the “saving the world” bit earned an eyebrow raise from fair Felsi. Bingo.

“Cyra what now?” He asked, puzzled. I just rolled my eyes. “Right, well, it’s been fun, Felsi, but I better go.”

“Wait! You’re… leaving? You just got here. I haven’t called you a shaft-rat yet…”

“Oh you can’t keep the Archdemon waiting. You hurt its feelings it might just turn the whole blight around and go home. Nobody wants that.” the dwarf quipped.

“Well, you don’t need to fight it right now, do you? I mean, you could have a pint first. You could call me a surly bronto, I could tell you that you smell like nug droppings…”

Ah, truly a match made in heaven.

“Well, I suppose I could stay for a pint or two. Right, Warden?”

I nodded. “We’ll be headed out tomorrow morning. You kids have fun in the meantime.” I smirked.

“Kids?! By the tits of my ancestors, my underwear is older than you!” Oghren groaned before moving closer to Felsi and continuing his brazen flirtations. And that’s when Sten took it upon himself to storm out of the inn, the door slamming shut and almost coming off the hinges with the force he used to close it. I looked at the rest of my companions and got nothing but looks of utter confusion and shrugs from every single one of them. Maker’s breath, what did I do now?

I followed the brown giant outside and found him hurriedly pacing, the anger practically radiating off his skin.

“...Sten?” I approached the Qunari with extreme caution.

“It’s not here.” He almost growled, but the timbre was too low and too even to truly call it one.

“...What’s not here?” I asked.

“Tell me, Warden. In all this time that has passed since you released me from that cage, why have you never once asked me the details about my being there?”

“You killed people, Sten. I know why you were there.”

“Yes. But you do not know anything more than that. I have learned that you are a curious sort. The other warden’s sister. The witch’s mother. The bard’s betrayer. Even the dwarf’s lover. You have studied everything there is to know about every single one of us. Except me. Except this. Why?”

“You want the honest answer?” I asked.

“Always.” He replied tersely.

“Because there is nothing you could possibly say to excuse what you’ve done. You killed innocent people. An entire family, as I’ve heard it. And I know it weighs on you. But as someone who lost her own family to a crazed murderer, whatever your reason, it’s not good enough. That is why I haven’t asked.” I spoke plainly and expected my words to be met with anger and bitterness. Instead, all I got was sadness and regret.

“For once, Warden, we agree. I acted dishonorably. And even if it falls on deaf ears, I feel I must explain why. And I ask that you reserve judgment until I am finished.”

I sat down on a log near the shoreline and folded my hands in my lap, signaling that I was all ears.

“I was sent here by the Arishok with seven of the Beresaad, my brothers, to seek answers about the blight. Our mission was met without incident until the night we camped here. They came from everywhere. The earth beneath our feet, the air above us; our own shadows harbored the darkspawn. I saw the last of the creatures cut down too late. I fell.”

Okay, Scarlett. He’s trying to connect for once. He’s reaching out. Try to find some common ground.

“That sounds like what happened to Alistair and me. At Ostagar.”

“Yes. I heard the stories of Ostagar. Your kith stood their ground while others fled. No one can do more than that.” He paused and I gave him a nod of thanks for the compliment. Compliments from Sten were definitely few and far between. “I don’t know how long I lay among the dead on the battlefield, nor do I know how the farmers found me. I only know that when I woke I was no longer among my brothers, and my sword was gone from my hand.”

“What did you do?”

“I searched for it. And when that failed, I asked my rescuers what had become of it.”

“And then?”

“I killed them. With my bare hands.”

I balled up my fists and clenched my jaw, struggling with all my might not to lash out. He had asked me to reserve judgment but ooooh boy was that proving to be a difficult task.

“I did. I knew they didn’t have the blade. They had no reason to lie to me. I panicked. Unthinking, I struck them down.”

I closed my eyes and, thanks to my Maker-forsaken vivid imagination, I watched the whole bloody scene play out before my eyes. The helpless, well-intentioned farm folk who went out of their way to do a good deed, only to be repaid by being ripped apart limb from limb by the hulking, boorish creature standing before me. I felt unshed tears glistening in my eyes as I looked up into his once more.

“That’s… terrible.” I whispered.

“I know. I cannot justify what I have done. My honor is forfeit.”

“But… all of that over a bloody sword?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental, I swear; I was just trying to understand.

“That sword was made for my hand alone. I have carried it from the day I was set into the Beresaad. I was to die wielding it for my people. Even if I could cross Ferelden and Tevinter unarmed and alone to bring my report to the Arishok, I would be slain on sight by the Antaam. They would know me as soulless. A deserter. No soldier would cast aside his blade while he drew breath.”

I nodded slowly as the picture became clearer. “And you were trying to search for it again while we’re here.”

“Yes. I spoke with a scavenger here who claims he sold it to some human who peddles his wares outside of Orzammar.”

Before I could catch myself I groaned and began rubbing my temples.

“Yes, the very place we just left. The irony is not lost on me, Warden. But this is not just a sword. This is… my soul.” The Qunari explained.

Mother. Fucker.

“Sten, I… I cannot go back to Orzammar.” I admitted softly, shamefully. I had made a point to literally help everyone else in our party who had asked. Heck, I even helped some people I barely knew. Everyone but him. And I felt really shitty about that. But to go back and lose all the ground we just covered for something that might not even be there… I just couldn’t do it.

“Of course. I understand. You and I… we have always been at odds. We are not friends. It was foolish of me to think otherwise.”

“It’s not about friendship, Sten. It’s… the end is coming. I can feel it. All of this is about to come to a head, and I’m still grossly unprepared…” I sighed. “And while we’re perhaps not going to exchange friendship bracelets any time soon, I do respect you.”

“Feelings mutual.” The Qunari agreed.

“And that is why I am giving you leave to find this sword on your own.”

“You… what?”

“Go back to Orzammar. Find who bought it. Get it back.”

“No. I was freed in Lothering on the condition that I would help you end the blight.”

“Yes, and you have. You have helped out immensely. As I said, the end is coming. And sooner or later, you’ll have to go home. And despite all our differences, I don’t want you to die, Sten. Find the damn sword.”

“This feels wrong.” He protested.

“Look, it’s not… a wholly selfless request. Please speak of this to no one, but I have reason to believe Isolde might be up to something. When you find the sword, return to Redcliffe. Protect Eamon. See if you hear any whispers about his wife. When, Maker willing, the Dalish make good on that final treaty, I’ll send word that we’re ready to commence with the Landsmeet. We’ll meet up again then in Denerim.”

“You ask me to be a spy? Perhaps it has escaped your attention, Warden, but I am not subtle.”

I let out a cackle at that one. “Subtle, no. But you are patient. And quiet. Just keep your ears open and your mouth shut. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I still do not like this. I vowed to—”

“Sten, enough. Rest up tonight. Gather whatever supplies you’ll need. And Find. Your. Sword. That’s an order.”

He stood up straighter and gave me a single nod. “I’ll leave at dawn.”

I gave him a nod right before he turned around to head back inside the tavern. “Good.”

“Warden?” Sten called as he turned back around to face me. “Thank you.”

I gave him a half smile and another nod. As his hulking frame continued to get farther away from where I sat on the shore, I heard Wynne call my name from the dock. Joy.

I went over and offered her my hand to help her climb out of the rickety boat.

“Why thank you, young lady.” The mage gave me a kind smile as we sauntered toward the Spoiled Princess.

“My pleasure. So, I assume you have news?”

“I do indeed. The results indicate—”

“WAIT! Wait. Alistair will kill me if he’s not here. Just a sec.” I jogged over to the inn, grabbed Alistair, and pulled him outside. We all made our way to the same secluded spot on the shore where Sten and I talked. Alistair held my hand and I unknowingly dug my nails into his as I braced myself for bad news.

“Uh… Scarlett? Hand. Nails. Bleeding. Pain!”

“Gah, sorry!” I loosened my grip and laced my fingers in his instead.

“Hey…” He began as he placed a finger under my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. “I meant what I said, Scarlett. I love you, and we’re in this together. All the way. No matter what Wynne says next. Okay?”

I nodded and took a deep breath in. “Okay. Wynne, we’re ready.”

“As I was saying, the results indicate that you are… not with child.”

I stuck my finger into my ear and wiggled it around a bit. “Uh, just to confirm I heard you correctly, you just said I am NOT pregnant, yeah?”

Wynne chuckled lightly. “Correct. Emphasis on the NOT.”

“Oh thank the Maker!” I squealed with delight. I practically leaped for joy before I wrapped my arms around Alistair and held him tight. But something didn’t feel right. He was hugging me back, but I could almost feel that his heart wasn’t entirely in it. I pulled away slowly and met his eyes. The look in those eyes as they stared back at me… joy was nowhere to be found. I would have settled for relief, but that wasn’t there either. I saw one emotion and one only—disappointment.

“Alistair? This… this is happy news. ...Isn’t it?”

He remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“Wynne, would you mind giving us a moment?” I asked.

“Of course.” She gave me a nod and made her way inside.

“Alistair? Talk to me. You seem… less than thrilled.”

“ I’m happy you’re happy.” He reassured me. “You know how I love when you smile.” He forced a smile as he pinched my cheek.

“Well, that’s very sweet and all, but… you’re… not happy?” I prodded further.

“I don’t know. I just thought… with me being cured of the taint and those mood swings in the Deep Roads and how sick you got on the way here… I thought maybe…”

“Mood swings?!” I shrieked. Oh boy had that set me off. “Alistair, you gave me just about the worst news I could possibly get while the darkspawn were crawling and scratching around in my head, not to mention all the other lovely things we encountered down there, not the least of which was a creature so monstrous I haven’t gone a single night since without seeing her face in my nightmares. ‘Mood swings.’ For fuck’s sake!”

I snatched my hand from his and began to turn on my heels and storm off, but I soon thought better of it. Him trivializing my rather agonizing experiences in the Deep Roads pissed me off. A lot. But I was sure he didn’t mean it the way it sounded and it was my idea to get him to open up about this in the first place. So, I took a deep breath in and regained my composure, turning back around to face him once again.

“Alistair,” I began in a much calmer, gentler tone, “You know a baby is the last thing we need right now. You know what we’re we’re up against—the impossible odds we’re already facing...”

“I know, I know. The timing couldn’t be worse. But... would it really be so bad? You and I starting a family?”  

And as I looked into the amber of his heartbroken eyes, for the very first time, I came to the crushing realization that I was going to lose the man I loved. Not because of the blight. Not because he was going to become king. But because I was not going to be able to give him the one thing he desires most in all the world—a family of his own.

I swallowed my tears and had to look away from his eyes, my own gaze falling to the ground.

“There’s… a very real possibility that won’t be an option for us.” I whispered.

“You don’t know that.” Alistair countered stubbornly.

“Alistair, I’m a relatively new Grey Warden and you’re completely cured of the taint and despite all our… activities… I still didn’t conceive. I’d say that’s pretty solid evidence that bearing children is likely not in the cards for me. Perhaps… perhaps it’s finally time to have that discussion we’ve been avoiding.”

“What discussion? What are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and hurt playing across his angular features.

“You know which one. THE one.” I said as I felt warm tears stream down my face and looked up to meet his eyes once more. “Where do you see this going between us?”

Before he could respond, a frantic Petra began shouting and running toward us.

“WARDEN!” She cried as she placed her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath.

“Calm down, Petra. Easy.” I instructed as I rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You… Connor… HELP!” She panted as Wynne came rushing back outside to join us.

“What is going on? I heard shouting. Is everything—” It was then her eyes fell to her young apprentice. “Petra?! What in the Maker’s name are you doing outside the tower?”

“You mentioned Connor. What’s going on?!” I asked, becoming increasingly panicked.

“The templar… Cullen… he’s… unhinged. He’s… please, you must come now!” Petra pleaded as she grabbed my hands and began dragging me toward the boat she came in on. After the gravity of the situation fully sunk in, no dragging was necessary. I raced toward that boat as if my life depended on it. Alistair and Wynne followed.

…

As I pushed the doors of the Tower open with all the force I could muster, the scene unfolding filled me with rage almost immediately. Connor was in the middle of the floor, a crumpled mess on his tiny knees as Cullen held him too tight by the wrists, his lacerated forearms on display for all the world to see. The templar was shouting at Commander Greagoir, his attention divided as he also tried to listen to Irving, who was trying his best to remain calm and collected while Cullen demanded blood.

“What more proof do you need?! This monster studied with Jowan, a known blood mage. He’s already made deals with demons. And here is physical proof that he himself has been practicing blood magic within these very walls!” Cullen practically screamed as he pulled the boy’s arms so hard I was surprised they didn’t come out of their sockets.

“Cullen, unhand that boy immediately!” I shouted as I drew my sword but dropped it just as quickly. I’d forgotten about the cut Wynne had left on my hand and the feel of my wounded palm wrapped around the hilt was not pleasant, to say the least.

“Well, if it isn’t the Grey Warden.” The templar approached me, his anger not quelling for an instant as he grabbed my wrist and forced my hand open for Greagoir to see the blood-soaked bandage. “Quite the coincidence, is it not? She’s alone with the boy in his room for over an hour and lo and behold, more blood. Care to explain yourself, Warden? Something tells me you weren’t careless with a kitchen knife.”

“Let her go. Now!” Alistair growled, his sword also drawn as he prepared to defend me. I snatched my hand out of the Templar’s grasp while he was distracted and shot Alistair a glare that said “let me handle this.” I did not want to incite even more violence into the situation—not if it could be avoided. Alistair left his sword in his hand but lowered it as he took a step back.

“Cullen, you are way off base here.” I explained as calmly as I could, slowly, carefully reclaiming my sword in the process.

“Oh? Then please. Do enlighten us. How did you cut yourself?”

“None of your fucking business.” I growled through gritted teeth.

“I knew it. She’s in league with this little monster. Maker, he could still be an abomination for all we know! The demon could just be lying in wait, biding its time until the right moment comes to strike. This boy must be destroyed, or do you want Kinloch Hold to share Redcliffe’s fate?” He asked Greagoir.

“The Warden has assured us that Connor was taken care of. I was there when the situation was resolved myself.” Irving explained.

“Oh, you went into the fade and saved him, Irving? Is that what happened?” Cullen asked.

“Not myself, no, but—”

“Oh, did she send you, then?” Cullen asked as he turned his attention toward Wynne. She just remained silent.

“Your silence speaks volumes, old woman. So, who did you send, Warden? The blood mage?”

“No! I... have another mage in my company.” I explained and very intentionally left it at that.

“Oh how nice. Wynne was the only mage granted permission to leave this place with you, so I must be forced to assume you’re referring to an apostate. And we all know just how trustworthy they are…”

“Cullen, you’re paranoid. You’re delusional. Back down, now.” I warned.

“Fine! If no one will believe me, I’ll make you see the truth!”

In a flash Cullen turned around and grabbed Connor by the hair, slamming his small body against the nearest wall and wrapping his impossibly huge fingers around the boy’s impossibly small neck.

“SHOW YOURSELF, DEMON! I DEMAND YOU—”

As soon as he touched another hair on that boy’s head I was already lunging for him. I forced him to turn around and punched him with everything I had square in the jaw. But everything I had wasn’t enough. He seemed to barely be phased, other than his normally umber irises glowing almost red with rage. He drew his sword and came at me hard. I rolled out of the way and sparks flew from his blade as it connected with the stone. And just like that, I was in a duel with a Templar. What fun.

He was good, too. Damn good. His training and discipline and devotion to his cause all too apparent with every lunge, every attempted blow, every parry. But his unbridled anger made him sloppy. I could work with sloppy. All I needed was an opening. As our steel crossed at lightning speed over and over and over again, it didn’t take me long to realize he wasn’t going to give me one. Still, we continued to spar, sparks continued to fly and metal continued to clash. Before long, he decided to use his imposing size to his advantage and break the stalemate. Despite all my efforts to push back and oppose him, he still managed to back me into a corner. Our blades hissed as he pinned my body to the stone behind me, his face less than an inch from mine, his eyes wide and frenzied. I tried to break free, to push him off, but my efforts were completely futile and he knew it. And then—either to add insult to injury or because he was truly batshit insane—Cullen began to laugh right there in my face. Not some warm, friendly titter. A manic, detached cackle so chilling that it tickled all the way down my spine in the worst way. F U C K. Okay, time for something a little less… conventional. I took it upon myself to stomp on his foot and knee him in the crotch. Hard. It wasn’t fair, but neither is attacking a fucking child. Bet they don’t teach you that one at the chantry. While he was doubled over in pain, I took the pommel of my sword and rammed it as hard as I could up into his face. And with that, the overzealous Templar was down for the count, his upper lip split open and bleeding all over the place. Eesh. That was going to leave a mark.

Connor ran over to me and gave me another hug. I hugged him back before kneeling down to examine the damage.

“Are you hurt?” I asked as I looked him over. He shook his head.

“Are you?” He asked.

I shook my head back and mussed his hair a bit before standing back up. “Just a couple more bruises to add to my collection.” I half-smiled before turning my attention back to the Knight-Commander. “Greagoir, I’m sorry but, this cannot stand. This man is no longer fit to serve. Something must be done.”

“The cuts are… curious, Connor. Can you tell me how you got them?” Greagoir asked gently.

“I… I…” he stammered while wringing his hands, the embarrassment on his face painfully obvious.

“It’s my fault.” I jumped in.

“...Come again?” Greagoir asked.

“When we were in his room earlier, Connor told me he wanted to learn how to fight. I tried to teach him and gave him a little nick every time he faltered. Perhaps a harsh means of instruction, but it’s effective. I apologize. It was… inappropriate behavior. Especially here.” Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.

“Is this true?” The Knight-Commander asked. Connor just nodded. No more. No less. Good lad.

It was then I heard a groan emanating from the broken man on the ground behind me. Greagoir turned to look at Cullen, his eyes filling with sorrow for what his fellow Templar had been through but also with fear for what he was becoming. Ultimately he seemed to push the fear back down and let sorrow win the battle for his conscience.

“Cullen is a good man. And he has told me time and again he still wishes to serve. We’ve already lost so many. I cannot simply—” Greagoir began.

“He’s in no condition to serve anyone. Not like this. Not anymore. It’s ultimately your call, of course, but if he remains here, he will take a life. An innocent one. And I won’t be here to clean up the mess.” I explained as I put my hand on Connor’s shoulder. “And when that comes to pass, who will truly be to blame?”

“Perhaps all he needs is a change of scenery. I know I’d go stark-raving mad if I were still stationed at Ostagar, after all that happened there. This place holds nothing but death and nightmares and bad memories for him. Surely he could be reassigned elsewhere… The Free Marches, perhaps.” Alistair suggested. And wisely so. I swear, he was becoming more like a king with each passing day.

“I... will consider your suggestions. For now, I believe he needs a healer. Irving, would you mind?” Greagoir asked before he walked over to Cullen and wrapped the fallen Templar’s arm around his shoulder as he hoisted him up. Irving propped the other side of him up, in spite of all Cullen had said, of all he’d tried to do. That mage’s patience seemingly knew no bounds. I stared daggers into Cullen’s half-open eyes as the three of them walked past me, the templar’s lip bleeding like a sieve. Good. Maybe that inevitable scar will serve as a reminder: You do not fuck with people I care about. Not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've heard some think Connor skews a bit younger than I portray him. I'd say he's around 10 or 11 for the purposes of this story, so if he comes off as a bit more mature than he is in-game, that's why. 
> 
> I recognize the timing is off with the Cyrano reference. I just thought it was funny. Why not, right? 
> 
> I fell in love with the idea of the Hero of Ferelden giving Cullen that infamous yet delicious scar we see on his lip in Inquisition. Hope you enjoy that little flourish. ;)


	48. Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! 
> 
> Burdened by the thought that she cannot give Alistair what he truly dreams of—a family of his own—Scarlett once again assesses whether their relationship is the best thing for either of them and tries to find the courage to do what needs to be done to ensure his happiness. Alistair, however, has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As my friend Tina so awesomely put it, this chapter is sort of a character study ... in addition to being totally fluffy and smutty, haha. There are lots of callbacks to chapter 6, "Juicy Gossip", in this one, so if you're hazy on the details, I'd recommend going back and rereading that before diving into this chapter. Thanks so much for reading, commenting, and kudo-giving. I love and appreciate all of you!

 

“So, is it just me, or has today been absolutely bonkers?” Alistair asked anyone who would listen. “I mean, if you’d have asked me an hour ago whether I’d expect to see Scarlett to kick the ever-loving spit out of a crazy templar, I’d have laughed you right out of the room.”

Connor, Wynne, and I just stared at him blankly.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Just me, then. Good to know.”

“Come, Connor. Let’s see if we can’t rustle up some tea and biscuits before we head back to your room.” Wynne offered, her eyes twinkling with kindness and warmth. The young mage gave her a nod before running back up to me and giving me one last hug.

“Thanks for saving my life, Scarlett. Again, I mean.” The boy smiled up at me once he loosened his embrace.

“Anytime.” I smiled back and gave his shoulders a quick squeeze. “You be good, okay?”

He gave me a nod as he took Wynne’s hand and walked with her down the long, dark corridor. Once they were out of earshot, Alistair stood beside me and slipped his hand in mine.

“I know it’s probably a stupid thing to ask considering the sorry state you left Cullen in but, are you alright?”

I nodded and squeezed his hand, the slightest bit of melancholy seeping into my chest as Connor’s form disappeared into the darkness. “I’m fine.”

“I’ve never seen you fight like that. Not ever. You just sprang into action. No thinking. No hesitation. You were so… protective.”

I kept my mouth shut and set my gaze on the cracks in the stone floor, unsure of where exactly he was going with this.

“You care for him. For Connor, I mean.” Alistair observed.

“We just understand each other, that’s all.”

“So I suppose it stands to reason that you may have at least one teeny tiny maternal instinct buried somewhere in there after all…” He playfully nudged my shoulder, and I know he meant it as a joke, but it was very, very ill-timed. My scuffle with Cullen had almost allowed me to successfully forget where Alistair and I had left things before Petra came running. And the idea of tackling the very topic I’d been avoiding since we woke Eamon, well, I just didn’t have it in me.

“I know I said we need to talk, but I’m honestly just… exhausted. This is a conversation I just can’t have tonight, okay?”

“Scarlett, I didn’t mean—”

“I know, Alistair. You never mean to.” I gave him a weak smile before letting go of his hand. “I think I’m going to head back to the inn and see if I can get a room for the night.”

“...Alone?” He asked, the hurt beginning to seep into his expressive honey-colored eyes. Be strong, Scarlett.

“I... think that might be best. I have a lot on my mind.” Between worrying about leaving Connor here with Cullen, trying to figure out what Isolde is planning, losing Sten (hopefully temporarily), finding the proverbial Dalish needle in the haystack, and especially Alistair’s surprisingly negative reaction to me not being with child, I had a bevy of thoughts I needed to collect. Despite my feelings for him, I had to at least attempt to remain objective.

...Yeah, Scarlett. Cuz that’s worked out soooo well for you in the past, right?

“Okay, if that’s what you want. But if you should need anything, I’ll be right there waiting for you.” He gave me a wide smile.

Any other time that would have been a lovely thing to hear. But now, given the circumstances, that was the last thing I wanted him to say. I didn’t want him waiting for me. I didn’t want him to put his life on hold and have his best chance at happiness pass him by on the off chance that I could one day give him what he longs for most in this world: a child of his own.

I gave him my best attempt at a smile back, but it wasn’t entirely successful and he could sense it. I turned on my heels and began to head back, muttering under my breath, “And that’s precisely what I’m afraid of.”

…

The innkeeper wound up giving me the same room I’d had the last time we stayed at The Spoiled Princess. Kind of a funny coincidence. Before I could slink away unnoticed, Morrigan stepped in front of me, effectively blocking me from the staircase.

“Finally. I have been bored out of my skull sat here all by my lonesome. What took you so long? And what, pray tell, were you up to in that tower that causes you to limp so miserably?” The mage inquired as she looked me up and down.

“I uh… got into a fight.”

“I figured as much. With whom?”

“...With a templar.” I explained reluctantly, knowing for sure she’d have an opinion on the matter. And for the first time in a long time, I saw Morrigan smile as though she were the cat who swallowed the pigeon (thanks for that one, Alistair).

“Is that so? And how did that come about, I wonder…”

“It’s… a long story.” I sighed.

“Ah but is it not always? So be it. Let us move on to the part that matters. How did this quarrel end?”

“I… I kneed him in the groin and sorta… broke his face.”

Morrigan tittered—a low, almost touchable sound that made me shiver as it always did the scant few times I’d heard it in the past—and clasped her hands together in delight.

“My my my, Scarlett. That must have been a thing to behold. Pity I missed it. Even so, never have I been prouder to call you my friend than this very moment.”

I was tempted to say “Hold that thought…” and tell her of Sten’s departure, about which I was sure she’d be less than pleased. He was her favorite toy, after all. But she’d find out soon enough, and I didn’t have the energy for yet another battle tonight. So, I settled on a curt but genuine “Thanks.”

“You are welcome.”

“Where is everyone else, anyway?” I asked as I looked around the tavern, seeing neither hide nor hair of my other esteemed compatriots.

“My dear Sten has been running around like a madman, gathering supplies or some such for the journey ahead. Tis a long way to the Brecilian Forest, I admit, but I was certain we are rather well stocked. Tis most curious…” Morrigan raised a brow and gave me a quizzical look, but I didn’t take the bait.

“And Leliana and Zevran?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. Morrigan just gave me a disgusted look, and that said everything I needed to know. It would appear their little spat had concluded (yep, they’d been at odds on and off since the Deep Roads. Their bickering totally didn’t make the rest of us super uncomfortable... NOT.) and they were off doing... whatever it is they now do.

“Oghren slunk away somewhere with his little wench and the golem decided to go for a walk in the lake.” Morrigan continued.

“You mean _by_ the lake?” I asked.

“I do not. It said ‘in the lake’ before stalking off and mumbling about its superiority and how the surface was riddled with the avian menace or some such. I do not fully recall. Twas all quite dull and my attention can only be held for so long.”

I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth despite myself. “That sounds like Shale.”

“Now, if you are done probing me for useless information, I do believe I shall retire for the eve. Though, if any more templars require broken faces, do feel free to rouse me from my slumber.” Her lips curled into the slightest of smirks before she gave me a nod and turned around to make her way upstairs. I followed.

…

The room was almost identical to the way I’d left it, and I felt myself swoon with emotion as soon as I walked past the doorframe. The same clean but slightly threadbare quilt lay across the lumpy bed. The same chipped, rickety table stood near the far wall with the same subtly cracked but functional ewer resting atop it. The same streaky window with cobwebs adorning the corners had the same moonbeams shining through it, illuminating the room. It shouldn’t have surprised me that it hadn’t changed much. It had been less than a year, but somehow I was so much younger when last I walked these creaky floorboards. I removed my armor as quickly as I could and washed up a bit before changing into my nightshirt and taking a seat on the corner of the well-worn bed. And though my thoughts were swirling with other, more pressing matters related to the Blight, a bittersweet smile graced my lips and a heaviness sunk into my heart as they inevitably fell to only Alistair. I found myself staring longingly into the vacant, still-stained spot on the floor that was formerly occupied by him as we shared our first bottle of wine.

I loved that man. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I loved him more than life itself. And because of that, more than anything I wanted him to be happy. Deliriously so. I wanted him to live a long, full, joyful life with someone who could give him everything he wanted and more. Someone who didn’t have darkspawn blood coursing through her veins; someone who didn’t have an expiration date; someone who could give him the family he’s always longed for. And I would be damned if I was the reason he missed out on that. I would not stand in the way of his happily ever after—even at the cost of my own. That’s what love is. But how in the Maker’s name would I find the strength to let him go?

A knock at the door ripped me from my reverie.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Your favorite almost-templar.” Alistair called back, just as he had the last time he stood outside this door. I know I said I wanted to be left alone, but I couldn’t be even remotely cross with him. At the prospect of seeing him, the same old butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I made my way to the door.

I opened it slowly and leaned nonchalantly against the doorway. I was just about to speak to him before he beat me to the punch.

“Just… just hear me out, okay?” He asked with a raised hand signaling me to pause what I was about to do. I shut my mouth and gave him a nod so he’d know to continue. “I know you said you didn’t want company tonight, but I’ve come to learn all too well how you get when you’re left alone with your thoughts, so I’ve decided to be proactive and head this off at the pass.”

“Interesting. And how do I ‘get,’ exactly?” I asked as I crossed my arms, trying my damndest not to get defensive.

“You attempt to throw all emotion out the window and do the ‘right’ thing and it makes us both miserable and I, for one, refuse to allow you to come to yet another blasted conclusion on your own before I even have a chance to say my piece. It’s a pattern I’d really, _really_ like to break out of. Got it?”

“Well, I—”  
“Good. Nice shirt, by the way.” He flashed me a cheeky smile as he recognized his old wine-stained tunic I’d pilfered before pushing past me. I noticed the bottle of wine he had hidden behind his back as he walked further into the room. It was almost enough to make me smile as I closed the door and followed him.

“Now, you and I are going to sit here and have a drink and talk about this like real people do. Please. Sit.” He gestured toward the bed as he took his same old seat on the floor, crossing his legs and attempting to pop the cork out of the wine to no avail. The smile couldn’t be fought this time as he struggled (it’s so cute when he attempts to take charge, really), but ultimately I did as he asked and sat on my knees at the edge of the bed. He handed me the bottle.

“You’re better at this than I am, as I recall.” He grinned.

I nodded, my smile fading around the edges as I placed the bottle between my thighs and removed the cork with ease. “Some things never change.”

“Indeed.” He grabbed at the bottle and took a swig. “Alright, do you wish to start?”

I thought about it for a beat. This conversation was going to be futile at best, heart-wrenching at worst. And I bloody knew it. So, what was the point?

“Alistair, there’s really nothing—”

“Nope, wrong answer. There’s definitely something. Guess that means I’ll have to start.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How about this? I’ll explain the situation as I see it, and you can tell me if I’m getting warm or not, alright?”

I sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

“Right then. So, all of this started when Wynne gave us _the_ _news,_ or lack thereof as the case may be… right?”

“I don’t know if I’d say that’s when it all started…” I began.

“But that event triggered… something. Didn’t it?” He asked.

I nodded. On that much, we could agree.

“Okay, here’s how I see it. That was a really, really big moment for us, and in typical Alistair fashion, I reacted in the worst way imaginable. And I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “You were just being honest, Alistair. Don’t apologize for that.”

“No, I was being selfish. You already have so much on your plate and to add a baby to that… it was really unfair of me to even think about that right now. If I could take it all back I would.”

“I appreciate that.” I smiled softly. “But you can’t take it back, Alistair. I can’t unhear it and you can’t unfeel it. That’s not how it works.”

“Okay, let’s try looking at this from a different angle.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes tightly, and furrowed his brows. “We’ve been here before. Many many times. You come up with reason after reason why we shouldn’t be together. Duty. Responsibility. Blah blah blah. But ultimately we always choose to stay together. Don’t we?”

“So far.” I answered as I took a drink.

“So can’t we just sort of... skip to that part?” He gave me a hopeful smile.

I shook my head, unable to return the smile. “No. Not this time.”

“Why not?” He crossed his arms in a huff. “What makes this time any different?”

“Oh, is it my turn to talk now?” I asked, my tone rife with derision.

“Ah. Yes. Sorry. Please.” He extended his hand to show that I now had the floor.

“Alright, Alistair, here’s the difference: In the past, I’ve always thought about our relationship in terms of outside influences. The Blight. The Wardens. Eamon. ‘Duty. Responsibility. Blah blah blah,’ as you so eloquently put it.”

“Eamon?” He asked, his brow curved upward in befuddlement. Oops. “What did he—”

“It’s not important.” I interrupted and hoped he’d let me get away with it. “My point is that I was able to sort of… overlook all those outside things because deep down I knew that we loved one another and we made each other happy. And that was worth fighting for, obstacles be damned.”

“That hasn’t changed.” He got up on his knees and laced my fingers with his as he looked up at me.

“Yes, it has. Your reaction to _the news_ (I guess that’s what we were calling it now) made me realize that I will never be able to make you happy. Not truly.” I met his eyes as I felt my own beginning to swell with salty tears. “The heart wants what it wants. And you want a family. It’s a perfectly legitimate desire. And now, with you being cured of the taint, well, you have a chance at that. All you need to do is let me go.”

“Scarlett, don’t—”

“Don’t you understand? You’ve broken free of this curse, Alistair. You have a chance to live completely unencumbered and I absolutely refuse to be the dead weight that anchors you. You deserve better than that. You deserve absolute and complete happiness,” I paused, swallowing my unshed tears. “Even if it’s not with me.”

“Oh Scarlett…” He rested his forehead on our hands and spoke into my lap. “I just don’t understand you sometimes. How can someone so ridiculously intelligent be so incredibly... _stupid?”_

I snatched my hands from his and moved away from him by scooting further onto the bed. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression you came here to talk, not insult me.” I scowled as I brought my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, that… was the intent. To talk, I mean. You know my mouth has a nasty habit of saying the wrong thing sometimes. Sorry. But I just don’t know how I can make you understand...”

He ran his fingers anxiously through his hair as he always did, pausing to collect his thoughts. Once he came up with something he took a seat on the bed and met my eyes. “Okay. Do you remember the last time we were in this room?”

I nodded as I began to let go of my rising anger. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

Alistair shook his head as he once again reached for my hands, which I reluctantly gave him. “It feels like yesterday to me.”

He stood up and pulled my hands to get me off the bed and follow him to the window. Once I was standing where he wanted me he assumed his position in front of me and found my eyes.

“I’m hoping I don’t need to cover myself in wine to make my point.” He smirked. “But it was right here, in this very spot. You were caressing my face so gently. Your cheeks were flushed because I clumsily gave you a compliment and your eyes were looking anywhere but into mine because you were just too shy and didn’t know how to react. But then you finally found the courage to look at me. And when our eyes met, that was when I knew.”

“When you knew what?” I asked softly, once again unable to meet his gaze as my shyness overtook me.

“That I was in big trouble.” He smirked as he tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“What do you mean?”

“It was when I knew that despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you, in between all the fighting and everything else. And it was right here, with the moonlight shining in your hair and me covered from head to toe in sticky wine, that I began to realize it.”

He closed the distance between us by taking a step forward, holding my head in his hands and bringing me in for a soft, chaste brush of lips before whispering against my mouth, “There is no one else that could ever come close to you. There never will be.”

“But—”

“Stop. Just stop right there. If you’ve never listened to me before in your life, please, _please_ listen to me now.” He pulled away, my head still cupped in his hands as he forced my eyes to meet his. “ _You_ are my happiness. _You_ are all I’ll ever need, Scarlett Cousland. I swear it.”

Call me crazy. Call me naive. But you know what? I believed him. And despite all the other innumerable forces working against us, for tonight, that was enough. It had to be. Would I probably always feel a little bit inadequate? Naturally. But I’ll give you 500 sovereigns if you can name one damn person in this Maker-forsaken world who doesn’t. Why ruin a good today by being so preoccupied with a bad tomorrow? Maker’s sake, Scarlett. The love of your life is standing less than six inches away from you, holding your face and looking deeply into your eyes and saying just about the most romantic, heartfelt things you could ever dream of. Stop thinking so damn much and enjoy it! Sheesh. I took it upon myself to lighten the mood a bit.

“Liar. We both know your level of happiness has a direct correlation to your cheese intake.” I grinned.

He let out a relieved chuckle at my jest. “You got me. You definitely rank first, though. Cheese is a distant second. Besides, we all have our vices, my wine-loving bookworm.”

I gave him a gentle laugh at that before running my thumb over the apple of his cheek. “I love you.”

He smiled and turned his face to begin kissing the inside of my palm. “Is that so?”

I nodded slowly as his lips continued to tickle my hand.

“More than wine?” He asked as his lips found the inside of my wrist. “More than books?”

I swallowed hard as I felt my pulse beginning to quicken. “Yes, much more.”

“Hmm…” His lips continued to caress my wrist, his tongue teasingly stroking the sensitive skin there. “It’s a little strange, isn’t it? Being back here? It stirs up some very nice... memories.” His mouth kept working over my flesh as I noticed his stare falling down to the floor then moving up every square inch of my body until his eyes met mine.

“It um… something’s definitely stirring, yes.” I agreed as I felt a heated blush rush to my cheeks and chest.

“Did I ever tell you what I did…” he began as his lips made their way up my forearm, “after I left your room the last time we were here?”

“You… you didn’t go to sleep?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

“I couldn’t.”

“...Why not?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He let my arm fall and his lips began sucking my earlobe as he said it, nibbling at it gently in erratic intervals.

I began breathing faster as I whispered my command, “Tell me.”

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, throaty voice as his lips traveled from my ear to the side of my neck. I nodded enthusiastically.

“After I left you I went into my room and closed the door behind me. I threw my ruined shirt on the floor, this shirt…” he moved his hands beneath the fabric of my nightshirt and let his fingers whisper along my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, “And climbed into bed…”

“...Go on.” I encouraged him breathlessly.

“I closed my eyes and I saw only you. The way you’d looked at me only minutes before. I prayed I would hear a knock on my door and that you would be standing there, your hair falling long and loose around your shoulders, your eyes hungry and impatient. I imagined you…” He nibbled along my jaw as he continued his tale. My hand began roaming beneath his shirt now, across his broad back and muscled shoulders.

“What did I say?” I asked as I ran my fingers through my braid to let my hair fall in loose tendrils around me, just as he’d envisioned.

“There wasn’t any talking.” I felt him grin against my skin.

“Then... what did I _do?_ ” I changed my question. “And more importantly…” I began as I ran my fingertips along the inside of his waistband. “What were you doing while you imagined me?”

“You… you kissed me. Maker, you kissed me so hard you took my breath away. You pushed me back onto the bed and got on top of me as you lifted your shirt off…” His breathing grew faster as I mirrored his words, grabbing the hem of my shirt and removing it completely so I was standing before him in nothing but my panties. “And I… I…”

“Show me, Alistair.” I urged as I slowly ran my hand over the bulge in his pants. “Show me what you did.”

He unbuckled his belt and forced his pants lower, springing free in all his rigid splendor. It took every shred of restraint I had not to touch him, taste him, take him. But I was so adoring his story, reveling in the forbidden fantasy that he’d indulged in only a few steps from my door on a night just like this one. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t get a very real sense of titillation from the fact that I had been the subject of his erotic musings.

He slowly, gingerly began stroking himself as I watched, his other hand fondling and caressing my exposed breast, the flesh molding and undulating in his open palm, my rosy nipple growing swollen from his attentions. My hands were still roving over his skin but not where it counted.

“Tell me more…” I pleaded as I nipped at his stubbled jawline.

“You pinned me down. I… I knew we shouldn’t be… that I shouldn’t… but…”

“But that made you want to even more, didn’t it?” I asked as I placed my hand over his, continuing the slow, long strokes.

“Y-yes. Maker have mercy. It did.” He groaned as soon as he felt my hand join his own.

“And is that what you want right now? For me to pin you down and have my way with you?” I asked as I stared emerald fire into his now dark amber eyes, daring him to take things to the next level.

“No. This time, I get to take you.” He said it firmly, almost loudly, completely abandoning the hushed whispers we’d been exchanging only seconds ago. And before I could fully comprehend the shift, he turned me around and bent me over the table, the ewer spilling water all over the floor. He grabbed and scratched and pulled at the fabric on my hips, desperate to get my panties out of the way as I gripped either side of the small table, readying myself to be taken by him. He grabbed my hips in his hands and forced himself up into me hard in one swift, fluid motion. I almost screamed it felt so good. Maker’s breath, he always felt so impossibly huge at this angle, but I was so wet that his ample size created nothing but sensations of pure pleasure.

“Please, Alistair. Hard. Fuck me hard.” I begged and panted as I pushed back against him, matching his rhythm. He continued driving himself into me at an ever-quickening pace, the table threatening to break from the motions of our vigorous thrusts. He moaned as soon as I said it, though whether it was the begging he loved or the use of vulgarity I couldn’t be certain. For someone more or less raised in the chantry, the boy certainly seemed to love dirty talk.

His hips continued to churn against my backside with almost bruising force, his moans desperate and rapturous as he moved in and out of me. He sunk his teeth into my shoulder, knowing full well that just a slight tinge of pain always brings me even more pleasure. I cried out as his teeth grazed my skin, his hand reaching around to find my drenched, swollen pearl with his fingertip, his pace never slowing for an instant. He moved his finger in dizzying circles that sent electricity bolting through my every nerve, his hot breaths against my now sweat-covered back making me shiver in the best way.  

I was taken out of the experience, however, as I heard a loud creak and felt the ramshackle table finally beginning to give way beneath us.

I stood up and felt him slip out of me before craning my neck to meet his lust-blown eyes and devouring his mouth with my own. “Bed.” Was all I could manage to say. He groaned and pouted, clearly unhappy that we had to lose our momentum, but that was soon overtaken by wide-eyed surprise when I turned around completely and forcefully pushed him onto the bed. I decided I should like to slow things down a bit—I wanted to enjoy this, enjoy him, to the fullest extent possible.

I climbed in, hovered above his lap and pulled his shirt off, his beautifully muscled stomach flexing and contracting with each heavy breath he took. I ran my hand down the length of his sculpted torso, closing my eyes to revel in the feel of his taut, fevered skin beneath my touch. He put his hands back on my hips, desperate to be seated inside me again as soon as possible.

“Scarlett, please. You’re driving me insane.” He panted.

“Patience is a virtue…” I smirked before gently biting his lower lip and resting my hand against his chest.

“Not one of mine.” He grinned back, his eyes burning slightly brighter than a few moments ago, now all honey and olive, his cheeks red and forehead shiny with beads of sweat. And he looked absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous.

“Maker’s breath, you’re beautiful.” I admitted softly as I kissed the corners of his mouth.

He let out a light chuckle as he blushed brighter. “That’s my line.”

“It’s mine now.” I said in a low voice as I brushed against his lips. “And so are you. Lie back.”

I pushed against his shoulders lightly. As he reclined, I reached for the bottle of wine that miraculously remained standing and unspilled on the floor beside us. I took a sip and leaned down to kiss him again before I swallowed it down, the robust bouquet of flavor filling our mouths. I moaned at the feel of his tongue bathing in it, massaging and circling mine as the heady liquid swirled across our tastebuds.

“Be very, very still.” I warned as I broke the kiss, shifting my position to have access to lower parts of his flawless body. He gave me a nod and I gave him a parting peck on the lips before my mouth wandered lower, nibbling on his chin, sucking on his Adam’s apple, brushing his collarbone. I sat up as I straddled his legs and slowly began to tip the bottle of wine above him.

“Uh... Scarlett? What are you doing?”

“Continuing our trip down memory lane.” I smirked as I poured a few drops on his chest.

“Oh. That’s um… cold.” He gave me a quirked brow, clearly not understanding my motivation here. I just smiled wider before learning down to lap up the cold liquid with the heat of my tongue, the sensation of which was met with a gratifying moan. Bingo.

“Right. You clearly know what you’re doing. Shutting up now.”

My smile remained as I continued painting him with wine and kisses, the next pour running down the center line of his cut stomach, my tongue frantically moving to catch the liquid before it ran off his skin and made a mess of the sheets. It was a fun game and one he was clearly enjoying, judging from the way his breathing accelerated and his hips writhed.

“Be still…” I reminded him.

“It’s really, really hard.” He argued as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“Believe me, I know.” I grinned before licking up the last of the wine and moving even lower, taking the swollen tip of his shaft into my mouth and reveling in the deep groan the velvety warmth of my mouth wrested from him.

“Scarlett,” he panted. “Please, I can’t... you already have me so close...”

The desperate look on his face won me over and I climbed back up his body so our hips aligned, pinning his wrists to the bed and running the head of his manhood over my slick folds before crashing down on him, his delicious length filling me to the brim once more.

“Oh Maker YES!” He threw his head back as he thrust up into me as deep as he could get.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked breathlessly, my lips brushing against his as I spoke, my hips rocking against him in slow, deliberate gyrations.

“You… you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” He whispered back before locking my lips with his. I moaned into his mouth at the words, his red-wine tongue stroking mine in rhythm with our thrusts, that rhythm hastening now as I felt that heavenly warmth beginning to ignite from deep within me.

It wasn’t long before I felt him beginning to tense, his fingertips digging into the flesh of my hips, his breathing harried and ragged as he started coming undone. I still had him pinned down but I felt him pushing against my weight, desperate to break free. I opted to let him go, his hands immediately moving to immerse themselves in my long hair that fell around us. He pulled on it with just enough force to make me gasp as he took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue swathing and swirling and flicking against it, his teeth surrounding and scraping my almost too-sensitive flesh.

I was so focused on his mouth that his intrepid fingers almost escaped my attention. That is, until I felt the tips of them roll against the throbbing bud between my legs. He opened his mouth wider, taking in as much of my breast as he possibly could as I continued my thrusts and he continued rubbing me. I lost focus, all the dizzying sensations commingling and competing for my attention. It was almost too much. But then something in me just… let go. I just let everything happen and flow through me all at once. And that was all it took. I went soaring into my climax, crying out as waves of heat extended to my every extremity, my muscles spasming and throbbing as I rode the swells of absolute, unadulterated pleasure my lover had given me. His release soon followed with a roar, our pace slowing to a crawl as he chanted my name over and over and over like some sacred prayer.

I collapsed on top of him, my heart pounding in my chest, our bodies slick with sweat and… other things. He gently brushed my now-tangled hair aside so he could soothingly rub my back as we caught our breath.

Alistair was the first to break the contented silence. Because of course he was.

“That… that was…”

“Was it like you imagined?” I asked.

“No.” He paused for a beat to see if I’d take the bait. And, of course, I did.

“No?” I asked as I lifted my head from his chest to look up at him accusingly. He kissed the tip of my nose and I softened immediately.

“It was waaaay better. No way could I have dreamed up something like that. That was… on a whole other level.”

I felt a shaky smile spread across my lips as I rested my head against him once more.

“That was the right answer.”   


	49. The Tangled Web We Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett realizes she must be more open with Alistair in order for their relationship to work. Meanwhile, while the Brecilian Forest is quite beautiful, it also proves to hide dangers beyond reckoning. Will everyone make it out unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, dear readers! We finally made it to the Brecilian Forest. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks in advance SO MUCH for your comments and kudos. They mean the world to me. <3

We lay there in bed, our limbs tangled in a lazy mess as I stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, all content and relaxed and euphoric. Alistair had his head on my chest and was absentmindedly twirling my hair in his fingers as he so often did just before falling asleep. I tried to clear my mind and just enjoy the moment, and for a few minutes I totally nailed it. But then, of course, my thoughts were once again invaded by the troubles tomorrow was sure to bring.

Of all the treaties we needed to secure, the one with the Dalish was the one I was least looking forward to obtaining. Why, you ask? Well, from what I’ve read about them, the Dalish generally don’t take too kindly to outsiders. If good old Aldous (Maker rest him) was even remotely correct in his teachings, we humans fucked the elves over big time, and most of them haven’t exactly found it in their hearts to forgive and forget. You’d think I’d be used to showing up where I’m not wanted by now considering the way we were received in Haven and Orzammar—they didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat, did they?—but those… “difficulties” let’s call them, kind of caught me off guard. Diving headfirst into the base of a crazy cult that practiced human sacrifice and worshipped a high dragon thinking she was Andraste incarnate? Yeah, I’d call that _slightly_ atypical. And as for Orzammar’s power vaccuum, well, that was just shitty timing. I had virtually no idea what we were going to be walking into in either case. The Dalish, well, their reputation preceded them. I knew what to expect, at least on some level. And it wasn’t going to be pretty. That is, once we found them. _If_ we found them.

“Scarlett, I can practically hear your thoughts churning. It’s keeping me awake.” Alistair groaned.

“... Are you seriously complaining that I’m _thinking_ too loudly?”

“What can I say? I can read your body like an open book by now.” He bragged without even bothering to lift his head.

“Oh, this should be good. Enlighten me.”

“Gladly. The first telltale sign is your fingers incessantly drumming on my back. And that there…”

“What?” I asked.

He reached down and tickled the foot I was shaking at the other end of the bed, making me release an involuntary shriek.

“That.” He grinned. “The way you’re wiggling your foot. You only do that when your mind is totally occupied elsewhere. And I bet if I look up at you right now…” Alistair finally lifted his head off my chest and propped himself up to look at me. “Yep, there it is. The lip-bitey thing.”

I released my lip immediately, half out of defiance, half out of embarrassment, only to have it met with a soft kiss seconds afterward.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked sweetly as he ran the back of his hand down my cheek.

“You mean you can’t read that, too?” I asked with a smirk.

“Nah. I’m good, but I’m not _that_ good.” He winked. “Come on. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing of any consequence, Alistair. Don’t worry yourself.” I gave him my best reassuring smile. It was met with an exasperated groan. Not a good sign.

“Scarlett, listen… I know I’m not a Grey Warden anymore. But I am here to help you end the Blight.” He stopped for a beat, searching for his words. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I _want_ to worry. I want to share your burdens so the load for you is just that much lighter. But I can’t do that if you won’t let me…” He paused again to lace my fingers with his. “Don’t take the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me help you carry it.”

The flecks of green in his honey eyes seemed to flicker along with the candlelight, his pupils wide and dark. It was a look of sincerity and fear, of love and vulnerability

“Let me in. Please.” He pleaded in a whisper.

“I have let you in, Alistair. You’re so far in it hurts.” I explained as gently as I could.

“Why?” He asked. “Why does loving me hurt you?”

“Loving you is the easy part.” I gave him a bittersweet smile as I ran my fingers through his hair.

He lowered his head, suddenly too afraid to keep holding my gaze as he said this next part. “But it scares you to death. That’s why you keep trying to end things, isn’t it? Because you figure the choice is to either hurt now or hurt later and you keep trying to get it over with.”

… Well, shit.

My eyes grew wide as soon as he made the observation, I couldn’t help it. It was downright shocking how astute he could be sometimes, how easily he could make me see things I was subconsciously hiding from myself all along. In the moment, it always seemed my reasons for wanting to break things off with him made perfect sense. I was trying to be selfless, objective, pragmatic… I was letting go of my selfish desires for the sake of the greater good—or so I thought. But deep down, was it all really just a defense mechanism? A way to protect myself from a heartbreak so ultimately devastating that I would never recover?

“I’m not saying I blame you, far from it.” Alistair’s voice interrupted my reflection. “Eamon wants to make me king at the Landsmeet. I never ever wanted that, not in my wildest dreams. But I won’t refuse it if it’s in the best interest of the nation, either.”

“I know you won’t, Alistair. You’re too good. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”  

He gave me a half-smile. “And I love you. I know you know that. And while I don’t really know what being king will mean for us, I won’t let you go, Scarlett. Not ever.”

I closed my eyes and wrinkled my brows, biting my lips shut as I tried to figure out what to say next. He wanted me to be more open and honest with him. Open communication, admittedly, has not always been my strongest suit. I didn’t like having all my cards laid out on the table. Ever. But Alistair was well worth the effort. I mean, that’s what love is, right? Placing your delicate heart in someone else’s waiting, open palm and hoping beyond all reason that they won’t crush it?

Alright. Here goes.

“You can’t speak in absolutes when we face a future riddled with uncertainty.” I began softly, but the more I tuned into the thoughts swirling around in my head, the louder I became. I just sort of… unloaded on him. Poor bloke. So much for pillow talk.

“You really want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking Connor could be dead tomorrow because we have to leave him alone with a man like Cullen in favor of chasing after a group of elves who don’t want to be found in the first place. I’m thinking we have a long journey ahead and being down a warrior of Sten’s calibre is going to be a rather large hindrance, and that’s no one’s damn fault but my own. I’m thinking Isolde is planning something sinister from her cozy seat beside Loghain in Denerim and whatever she’s hatching is going to spell disaster for our cause. And I’m thinking if we somehow survive this thing—and this is the best-case scenario mind you, because I’ll be damned if Loghain keeps breathing, let alone keeps the throne—that you will be crowned king and you’ll need a wife who can give you, at minimum, one viable heir. And honey, that ain’t me.”

I took a few deep breaths after my rant was over, and once I calmed my flaring temper—not that I was angry at Alistair, just at our situation overall, really—I actually felt… well, a little lighter.

“Feel better?” He asked as the corner of his mouth curved upward and he removed a few stray hairs from my forehead.

“You know… I sort of do, actually.” I confessed, making no pains to mask my surprise.

“Seeee?” He teased. “Okay, let’s tackle this stuff together. First things first. What’s going on with Sten? He’s leaving?”

“He’s missing his sword. Apparently a VERY big deal to the Qunari. He thinks it’s back in Orzammar. I told him to go get it and meet up with us in Denerim.”

“That was good of you. I know he’s not your favorite person.”

“Heh, no. That title is already taken I’m afraid.” I kissed his cheek and it earned me a smile. “But he can pack one heck of a punch. He’ll be missed.”

“He can, yes, but honestly, I think you’re underestimating the rest of us. When we’re on a mission, we usually don’t all go together anyway. It’s what, two, three of us max who are really in the thick of it?”

I nodded. “Usually.”

“See? We can handle this very, very minor setback. Trust me.”

I sighed. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now, what about Isolde? I thought she was headed to sunny Orlais…”

“I found a note on one of Loghain’s men a few days ago. It referenced someone called ‘The Red Queen.’ I’m still not 100 percent certain it’s her, but my gut is saying she’s up to something for sure.”

“Your instincts are good, I know that. But darling, you can’t get so worked up about something we have no proof of. At this point it’s just… wasted energy.”

“I know I shouldn’t, I just… I can’t help it. If I’m not one step ahead of our enemies at any given time it could mean certain death not just for us, but for tons of innocent people. I can’t just… turn it off.”

He thought about my words for a moment, then gave me a slow nod. “I understand. But you can’t sacrifice your focus on the task at hand in favor of a guessing game. We need more to go on. I’ll help you keep an eye out for more leads. I promise.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I was worried if I so much as mentioned you-know-who’s name you’d lose it.”

“Give me a little credit, Scarlett. Not everyone is as hot-headed as you.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “And the wife hitch? What’s your solution for that, oh temperate one?”

“If—and like you said, this is a big IF—I become king, I will marry whomever I see fit. What was it Bhelen said when I asked him about Rica? ‘The wolf doesn’t concern himself about the opinions of the sheep,’ I think it was. Seems like solid advice to me. And let’s not forget that just because we didn’t conceive this time, that doesn’t mean we never will.”

I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as soon as he said it, considering the activities we’d just engaged in only moments ago. Maker’s breath, he was right, and I hadn’t even thought to—

“And I don’t say that to worry you. Wynne gave me something to lessen the risks. For now.” He explained.

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“But when the time is right, well, we’ve defied the odds so far; I see no reason why we won’t keep doing that.”

“And if the odds finally turn against us?” I asked flippantly.

“Then I’ll name an heir. Maker’s sake, woman. Stop making everything so bloody complicated.”

I shook my head in disagreement. He really didn’t get it. “Alistair, you’re going to be under an incredible amount of pressure from all kinds of people, people whose support you’ll need as king. Eamon has already expressed his displeasure with our relationship, and he practically raised you. The rest of Ferelden’s nobility will be much, much less forgiving. The Cousland pariah turned outlaw Grey Warden—these qualities do not a queen make. And you’ll not hear the end of it. Trust me. I know these people. Their every breath will be spent trying to discourage you, to discredit your claim. You’ll have enough to contend with going into this thing being a bastard. I will only make things worse for you. You’ll hear their voices of disapproval shouting at you in your sleep.”  

“Probably. And yet yours is the only voice I care to listen to… funny how that works.”

“Ugh. You just think it’s so easy, don’t you?”

“Easy? No. But with you by my side, we can do anything. I know we can.”

“... Sure. So, I suppose it’s meaningless to point out all the other reasons why this isn’t going to work?”

“Yep. Completely. My mind's made up. You’re not going anywhere.” He raised my hands and began planting soft kisses on my knuckles. “That is, so long as you’re willing to stay with me.”

I groaned in frustration but felt my lips twisting into a slow smile nonetheless. “I thought I was supposed to be the stubborn one.”

“You’ve rubbed off on me, I’m afraid. This is totally your influence.” He gave me a wide smile as he tucked some hair behind my ear. “Now, there was something else you mentioned…”

I nodded. “Connor.”

“Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that after you left the tower to come back here, Greagoir confirmed he would be… redistributing Cullen to Kirkwall. He won’t be hurting anyone else at Kinloch Hold. And maybe he’ll be different once he’s there… better, I mean. He was a good man once, as I recall. I think he’s just… confused. This will be good for him, I’m sure of it. And speaking of Connor…”

Alistair got up off the bed to find the pants he’d discarded on the floor and began rummaging around in his pockets for… something.

“What are you looking for?” I asked with a yawn. Man, was this the longest day ever or what?

“Aha! Here it is. Connor asked me to give this to you.” He climbed back into bed and handed me a piece of paper that was neatly folded into a triangle.

“...What is it?”

“No idea. I wasn’t about to open it. I didn’t want to pry.”

I carefully tugged at the folded layers of the note and unfurled the paper to reveal the symbol of the Circle with a crudely, but still well-drawn Grey Warden griffon in the center of it. The caption beneath the doodle read,

_Team Monster 4 Ever_

_Love, Connor_

And I found myself grinning from ear to ear.

“Not a bad little artist, truth be told. Did he say anything else?”

“Yeah. He said he meant it when he vowed to never hurt anyone again, but that if I broke your heart he’d gladly make an exception.”

I giggled like a fiend and felt a blush rush to my cheeks. “Awwww. That’s so sweet I think I’m getting a toothache.”

“Yes, yes. Yet another defenseless young man fallen prey to your irresistible feminine wiles.”

“Alistair!” I protested as I punched his arm. “It’s not like that!”

“Ouch! Oh yes, silly me. I always write love letters and threaten the boyfriends of girls I only want to be friends with.” He rolled his eyes.

“It is NOT a love letter.” I insisted.

“Oh, then I must be mistaken. But tell me, what does that say right there?” He asked as he pointed to the word “love” preceding Connor’s signature. “Just admit it. Connor has a crush on you.”

And the red in my cheeks worsened somehow. “Well, even if that’s the case,” I grinned once I manage to get a handle on my ridiculous level of blushing, “I hate to disappoint the lad but I’m afraid I’m already spoken for.” I leaned in for a kiss which he happily gave. It broke slowly as he rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.

“Thank you. For talking with me.” He whispered.

“Thank you for listening. I’ll try to be better. I promise.”

He gave me another light kiss. “I love you. Get some rest.”

…

I slept like the dead that night. It would seem thinking out loud and allowing someone to help you work through your problems does wonders to ease a weary mind. Go figure. From this day forward, I vowed I would try to be more open and honest with Alistair. He was the man I chose to be my partner, not my ward. He should be treated accordingly—as an equal. Two heads are better than one, right? It would be a tough habit to break, but by the Maker I was going to give it a try! Today was a new day, after all, and new days are perfect for fresh starts.

I awoke at dawn—not by choice, trust me. I was startled out of my slumber by the clanging of heavy armor and dangling weapons. I popped my head outside my door to see Sten, armed to the teeth and loaded up like a pack mule.

“Not big on traveling light, are you?” I asked tauntingly as I crossed my arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Nothing worth anything is ever ‘light.’” He argued. “What is this? You are never awake this early. Have you changed your mind, Warden? Are you here to stop me?”

“No, far from it. Just… hold on a sec.” I went back into my room and rummaged through my pack for the package of cookies I had in reserve.

“For the road.” I smiled as I offered him the bag.

He opened its contents and popped one into his mouth before giving me the slightest hint of a smile. “Farewell, Warden.”

“Safe travels, Sten. And good luck.”

He gave me a nod of acknowledgement and banged and bonged and clashed his way down the stairs and out the door.

After I washed up and got dressed (and after I managed to get Alistair to behave himself. Sheesh. That boy is insatiable, even without that infamous Grey Warden appetite), I gathered everyone outside the Spoiled Princess to address them before we began our long, likely arduous journey to the Brecilian Forest.

“Okay, everyone, gather round.” I began as they all formed a makeshift circle around me in front of the building. “In the interest of transparency, I feel I should inform you that—”

“Where is Sten?” Morrigan interjected as she looked around and noticed his absence. “Tis most unusual for him to sleep in.”

“Yeah… about that. I’ve sent Sten… on an errand.”

“What sort of errand?” Leliana asked as she snuggled her Schmooples ever so tenderly.

“It’s not important. Just know that—”

“Not important? Whatever happened to that precious transparency you spoke of?” Morrigan asked as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

I gritted my teeth and felt Alistair place his hand on my shoulder to ease my thinning patience. Right. Fresh start. New day.

“Sten lost something dear to him, and I gave him leave to track it down. Once he’s found it, I’ve asked him to head back to Redcliffe. He will leave with Eamon once we send word and meet back up with us in Denerim, if all goes well. There. Transparent enough for you?”

“But… whatever shall I do without him? The only amusement I am left with is insulting Alistair and even that has lost its luster. There is no thrill in hitting the bull’s eye of an easy target. I would likely be better off insulting a plank of wood. The chances of witty repartee would increase dramatically.”

“Why must you always go on about how stupid I am? I'm not stupid, am I?”

Oh Alistair, must you always give into her taunts? Have you learned nothing by now? Oy.

“If you need to ask the question…” Morrigan retorted.

“Because it hurts my manly feelings, you know. All one of them.” He sneered.

“Then I’ll be sure to write you an apology once all of this is over.”

“I was educated by the Chantry. I studied history. They don't make stupid templars.”

“Then I must have been mistaken. I’m very impressed.” The witch lied as she pulled a small mirror from her pack and began applying the usual plum-colored paint to her lips.

“No you're not. You're not even listening to me.”

“My, you are smarter than you look after all. Your Chantry must have been very proud.” She didn’t even bother to look up from what she was doing.

“Well, I am sorry to see the big softy go, but something tells me we will meet again.” Leliana offered.

Meatball, after realizing Sten wasn’t present among everyone else, gave me a pathetic whine. I knelt down and scratched him behind the ears. “He’ll be back, buddy. I promise.”

“Grand. Just peachy. The Qunari and I, we were of the same mind. Made of the same hearty stock. Now all I am left with is squishy humans.” Shale groaned.

“Don’t forget me.” Zevran interjected.

“Ah yes. And one elf. Even worse still.”

“And me.” Oghren chimed in.

“Don’t even get me started, dwarf.” Shale retorted.

“Ah, perhaps it is for the best. Sten seemed to have quite a disdainful attitude toward elves, and we are trying to locate the Dalish, are we not?” Zevran continued.

“Let’s be real, Zev. Sten has a disdainful attitude toward everyone. He wasn’t biased.” I smirked.

“Touché. Hmm… there is something different about you, my dear.” Zevran began as he looked me up and down. “You seem… at peace. The very picture of serenity.”

Huh… maybe Alistair’s and my talk last night had a bigger effect than I thought.

“Is this your doing, my young friend?” He asked Alistair.

“Well, I—” Alistair began.

“Say no more. I am glad to see you finally took my advice in the bedroom. It clearly has made all the difference.” The elf puffed up his chest. “Ah, the student has become the teacher. Look at me. I am practically swelling with pride.”

“Keep it up, Zev, and the only thing that will be swelling is your eye after I blacken it.” I glared. Andraste’s blood, I soooo hated it when he stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. And naturally, that was almost always in my sex life.

“Oooh so feisty this fine morning. I like it.”

I just rolled my eyes.

“Anyone else have anything to say? Any jibes? Jests? Clever one-liners? No? Awesome. Let’s get a move on. Brecilian Forest, here we come.”

…

The journey was met mostly without incident. We helped whenever and whomever we could—rescued refugees, salvaged a downed caravan, fought bandits, wolves, lots of darkspawn, and whatever else came our way. All told, things could have gone much, much worse. No attacks from the Crows. Seemingly no word from our beloved Red Queen. No sign of Howe’s or Loghain’s men. Either we had finally caught a break, or the shit was seriously going to hit the fan any day now. Time would tell.

It took weeks, but we finally arrived to the outskirts of the forest in one piece, and though everything I’d heard about the Brecilian Forest painted it as something dark and treacherous, the sight of it, was, in a word, breathtaking.

… Okay, two words: Breathtaking and green. Sweet Andraste, I had never seen so much greenery in all my life. The trees were as tall as they were broad, their massive branches extending so far into the heavens I could only assume they reached the Golden City itself, the leaves attached creating a canopy that barely let the sunbeams peek through enough to light our way. The ground was covered in dense grass and underbrush, peppered with flowering buds representing each and every vibrant color on the spectrum.

“It’s absolutely beautiful…” I whispered as I looked at our surroundings with abject awe.

“Do not be fooled by its beauty, Scarlett.” Wynne warned. “Many enter this forest and are never seen again. Let us hope we don’t join them.”  

“Yes, they say the Veil is thin here, and all manner of strange things may be seen.” Leliana explained as though she were telling us a spooky ghost story.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but places like this can get you turned around. Let’s try not to get lost…” Alistair observed as he proceeded with caution, trying desperately to keep his bearings though we weren’t truly even in the heart of the woods yet.

“I am more of a city elf, myself. A forest like this just seems so very… filthy.” Zevran scoffed.

“Wasn’t your mother Dalish, Zev? Shouldn’t you have some intrinsic sense of direction in here or something?” I teased.

“She was, but as you no doubt know, that is not the way it works. Your mother was a seafaring warrior maiden, was she not? And, as I recall, you do not do so well on boats.”

“Point taken. At least I inherited the warrior part.” I smirked.

“On that point, I will not argue.” He grinned back.

“Ugh. Look at you. Helpless as babes. You know nothing of life in the woods. Come. The camp is this way.” Morrigan groaned as she started off in her chosen direction.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“The broken branches and bent grass blades on the ground below suggests there has been foot traffic in this direction. And here, the way the moss grows on the rocks points us to a water source, and any elf worth their salt would want to set up a camp near such an asset for ease of washing and cooking. Not to mention, your mutt keeps sniffing in that direction, which would suggest some foreign scents still linger on the foliage. Need I go on?”

“Nope. Good enough for me. Let’s go.”

…

We walked for oh, about another hour or so, deeper into the labyrinthian grove with no indication that the path we pursued was the right one. The surrounding trees were so thick I couldn’t even look at the sun above us to get some semblance of direction or time. Not good. We all know how much I adore unpredictable situations. I kept on my guard as best I could, the slightest crunch or rustle of leaves making me jump.

“You seem a bit on edge, my dear.” Zevran noticed.

“This may come as a shock to you, but all this dirt and mud and creepy crawlies and Maker knows what else all around us… not my favorite, Zev. And, as an added bonus, I have absolutely no idea where we are.”

“Ah, but it is beautiful, is it not?” The elf asked as he did a twirl and inhaled the clean forest air, the scent of pine and sap and sweet nectar hanging heavy in it. Huh. I guess the place was growing on him.

“Beautiful, yes. Absolutely. But probably also filled with all manner of things that would love nothing more than to kill me.”

“Oh come now, my Fereldan rose, the best things in life are both beautiful and dangerous. Yourself included.” He gave me a flirty smile. Leliana cleared her throat. Loudly. “You, of course, are among her company, my little viper.” His smirk widened as he turned his attention to her, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity—a look I was not used to seeing in Zevran. Leliana must have noticed it, too— I thought for sure we were in for yet another squabble, but she accepted the compliment and returned his smile. Phew. Crisis averted.

Er… hold that thought.

It was at that exact moment that I saw it. Hanging above our heads like some kind of perverse tree ornament. A cocoon of some kind wrapped up in white webbing, eerily shaped like a corpse. I’d seen this before, back in the Deep Roads. As soon as my thoughts went back there I had to fight the urge to hyperventilate, the apprehension and fear chilling me to my core as I recalled the horrors we’d endured. I so did not want a sequel.

Okay, Scarlett. No need to panic. There’s just one. You can handle one giant spider. I looked around to be sure we weren’t in any immediate danger.

And then I saw another cocoon. And another. And another.

“... My love? What’s wrong?” Alistair asked as he placed a concerned hand on my shoulder. I just pointed to the mummified corpses, unable to tear my eyes away. “Oh. Lovely.”  

“Look! More of them! Maker have mercy, there must be at least fifty here.” Leliana observed, her mouth hanging open in awe and terror.

“Let’s keep moving.” Alistair advised. “With any luck we can avoid—”

He was interrupted by a hissing sound so deafening I could’ve sworn I felt blood dribble from my eardrums. The same sound that surrounded us in the Deep Roads and filled our hearts with dread before those eight-legged monstrosities descended upon us. And descend they did, all black and hairy, each one easily twice the size of our bodies. My eyes could have deceived me, but these spiders seemed WAY bigger than the ones we fought underground. Perhaps it was the magic in the forest. Or perhaps the lack of nutrients in the Deep Roads had stunted their growth—something tells me eating darkspawn remains doesn’t do a body good. Whatever the reason, they were gargantuan. And there were no darkspawn around to distract them this time. Those ugly buggers had their sights set on only us, their claws digging into the earth poised for attack, their stingers erect and protruding from the end of their abdomens, their fangs razor sharp and dripping with poison venom. And we had nowhere to run.

Aaaaand let the panicking resume. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

They inched closer at a sickeningly slow pace, biding their time, knowing full well they had us completely surrounded and at their mercy. Why rush it, right? Ugh. Had no one taught these fuckers it’s poor manners to play with your food?  

I drew my sword. Alistair and Zev followed suit. I had grown accustomed to the sound of metal blades being drawn from scabbards right before battle. It was almost a comfort at this point. One, two, three, fo… Oh. That’s right. Our fourth was missing. Here are three words I never thought I’d say: I miss Sten.

And then, as if each arachnid heard some silent signal, they attacked.

They moved at lightning speed, scuttling across the forest floor, drawing too close too fast, balancing themselves up on their rear sections to increase their impossible size before crashing to the ground, working to pin us down and make us their next meal. I had to remind myself to keep my eyes and mouth closed as much as possible—the spiders’ spittle was flying through the air like toxic rain.

Things could have been far worse, I suppose. There were a lot of them, but they went down within three or four blows of a sword or arrow. And they seemed to be especially susceptible to fire attacks, courtesy of Wynne and Morrigan. Oh, and my sword. Did I mention that? Probably not. I’ve been pretty distracted lately. So, we have these two little dwarves that have sort of been following us since Lothering. Well, as best as they can, anyway. When things get too dangerous they usually back off, but somehow—Maker knows how—they always manage to find us again. The younger of the two, Sandal… the boy has a gift. Enchantments. So, naturally, when he asked me if he could enchant my sword so that it literally caught on fire whenever I thought the situation warranted it, well, I certainly wasn’t gonna refuse it. Never will you feel so badass as when you wield a sword that’s not only about three feet long, but also blazing with red flame. Trust me on this one.

What was I talking about again? Oh. Right. Slaughtering baby spiders.

Yep, you read right: I said baby. As it turns out, these were spiderlings. I didn’t know it at the time, of course. I figured this was as big as they got. And believe you me, they were plenty big. But then, _juuuuust_ when I thought we had them on the run, along came mommy. And mommy was PISSED.

She was roughly three times the size of her progeny, the sound coming from her more reminiscent of a growl than a hiss—how is that even a thing? Do spiders even have vocal chords? Whatever.

Mama, unlike the others, didn’t wait before diving in. We’d hurt her babies and she was set on revenge. I tried to stand my ground as she came rushing toward us, thinking she’d impale herself on my sword if only I could get the right angle as she charged.

Yeah, that didn’t work. Not my finest moment. She jumped about six feet in the air—another little surprise I didn’t know these fuckers had in their arsenal. I’m sorry, but something that large should not be able to jump that high. It’s just not right. But yeah, anyway, Mama had figured out a way to defy the laws of physics—and she landed right on top of me.

I went down immediately. She was suffocatingly heavy—too heavy for me to even attempt to get away. It’s moments like this that I’m super thankful for my armor. Her fangs were trying desperately to break through, chomping and clamping down wherever she could reach, but it was holding up beautifully. That is, until she released her venom. It ate right through the metal like acid, the little puncture holes soon growing large enough for the poison to seep into my skin. It burned like a motherfucker, but I had to work through the pain. I had to figure out a way to break free. Somehow, over the sounds of my cries of agony and her low-pitched hissing growl, I heard the attacks of my companions hitting home. Alistair was stabbing her over and over, but somehow she barely seemed phased. Leliana’s arrows were practically bouncing off her exoskeleton, not making a dent. Seems mommy had some armor of her own.

 

Zevran had climbed on her back, sinking his daggers in wherever he thought she was most vulnerable. Meatball was biting her legs, but even his strong jaws couldn’t tear into her. Oghren was hacking away at her legs as well, but it was proving difficult to angle his ax so it only cut her and not me. Shale tried to simply lift her off me, but the mammoth spider was too wriggly, too unwieldy. She couldn’t get a good enough grip. One of Alistair’s blows finally did something and the spider let out a shriek of pain, lifting off of me for the briefest of moments. I seized the opportunity and rolled over onto my stomach, crawling away as fast as I could. But I wasn’t fast enough. The spider crashed back down on me, tearing right through the back of my armor with her claws before sinking her teeth into my back, her poison dripping into my spine. After that, it was only milliseconds before everything went dark.

…

When I came to I slowly opened my eyes and all I could see were the tiniest flecks of light through gauzy blackness. I searched, but for the life of me I couldn’t find my voice. I struggled, but I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t move my legs. Maker have mercy, what did that bitch do to me?!

Okay, calm down. Getting hysterical isn’t going to improve your situation. Think about this rationally.

I decided to start small. Wiggle your toe, Scarlett. Just the one. Just a little. I took a deep breath—as deep as my webbed encasing would allow— and closed my eyes again, really focusing with all the power I could muster.

Wiggle. Your. Toe.

After about 20 failed attempts, I finally felt it move. Aha!

Okay, hard part’s over. Now, move the others.

Before I had a chance to get my other piggies wiggling, I felt the edge of a blade come dangerously close to cutting my face. I tried to utter a protest, or at the very least a warning, but no sound came. So, I did the only thing I could do: I closed my eyes and prayed I didn’t lose one of them.

It wasn’t long before I felt the layers of the webbing being pulled away, the light outside my closed eyes growing much brighter. My eyelids fluttered open to reveal a very concerned Alistair kneeling beside my motionless body.

“Scarlett! Scarlett, can you hear me?”

I tried to say yes, to nod, something, but my body just wasn’t cooperating.

“Wynne! Do something!” He begged.

“I… I have never seen anything like this,” was Wynne’s only reply.

“Come on, there must be something we can do! She’s… she’s blue! That is not a healthy color for a person!” Alistair cried.

“Out of the way. Quickly!” Morrigan demanded as she knelt beside me. “Did anyone see where she was bitten?”

“Her… her back, I think.” Alistair stammered. “I don’t know. Everything happened so fast!”

“Roll her over.” Morrigan demanded. And he just complied. No arguments. No questions. No insults. Seeing them work together like this… it was… surreal.

I didn’t know what Morrigan intended to do, and whatever it was, I was pretty helpless to stop it. So I lay there like a slug, waiting for whatever magic she was about to weave to hurt like the dickens.

You can imagine my surprise when I felt her lips against my skin, suckling at my wound.

She sat up after about thirty seconds of that, spitting the contents of her mouth into the dirt.

“We waited too long. I can’t draw it out.” She explained.

“So, what can we do?” Alistair asked, his voice fraught with worry as he gingerly turned me back over.

“There is only one thing left to do. Stay here. I shall try to find the right herbs to counteract these effects.” The witch offered.

“Should I come? Should I help you look? What do you need? How can I help?!” His voice was shaking, his words falling out of his mouth so fast I could barely understand them.

“No. ‘Twould take too long to explain. I shall move faster on my own.”

Meatball took that as his cue to bark and make his presence known. Morrigan regarded him with a raised brow.

“Oh very well. I suppose I may have a use for that keen nose of yours. Come along, mutt.”

And with that, Morrigan and Meatball wandered off together. Will wonders never cease?

“Just hold on, my love. Help is on the way.” Alistair consoled as he held me in his arms and leaned down to leave a soft kiss on my clammy forehead.

I wanted to reach up and touch his face, give him a reassuring smile that I was still here, that I was going to be okay. I tried, really I did. But no dice. Not sure if you’ve ever been a prisoner in your own body before, but it reaaaaaally sucks. To be totally awake and have your mind fully aware that your body is all but useless... it’s no picnic. Sigh. And everything was going so well…

…

It felt like forever before Morrigan and my favorite Mabari returned. She used a mortar and pestle to grind the herbs (or, at least, I hoped that’s what it was) into a fine powder that she mixed with water. Alistair propped me up as best he could while Wynne gently opened my mouth and poured some in. BLECH. Apparently my taste buds were in prime working order. Gross.

It was another hour before the herbs worked their magic and I could, at the very least, speak again.

“Well, that was… new. I uh… For a second there I thought—” I let the thought trail off, my voice hoarse and throaty. And then my gaze fell to the big, bad mommy spider’s corpse. “Finally took the bitch down, eh?”

“How do you fare?” Morrigan asked, all business.

“Well, being able to talk is definitely a step up.” I smiled easily as Meatball began happily licking my cheeks. Seems I regained control of my facial muscles at the very least. Hooray progress!

“Oh thank the Maker you’re all right!” Alistair, still sat behind me, wrapped me up in his big arms and squeezed. I turned my head and gave him a quick kiss. Even more progress!

“Hmm… I’m afraid I must take back what I said in Orzammar, Scarlett—blue is not your best color.” Leliana joked. I couldn’t really see myself, but I assumed I was back to being a healthier-looking skin tone. I smiled wider.

“Thank you, everyone. Especially you, Morrigan. You really saved my ass.”

She gave me a smile back for once. “I’ve no doubt you would do the same, were I you.”

“Well, I am glad you are feeling better, Scarlett, and I hate to be a spoilsport, but daylight grows scarce, and I, for one, have no desire to be in these woods once it’s gone.” Zev explained.

“I hear that. The sooner we get out of here the better. All this greenery is making me sick. It ain’t natural.” Oghren groaned. “Can ya walk?”

I looked myself over. I could speak again. I could move my neck. I could roll my shoulders. My fingers, I could move. My arms, I could move. My legs… not so much. I squeezed the flesh of my thigh, my knee, my calf, anywhere I could with the hope of feeling… something. Anything.  But no feeling came. Nothing. Nada.

Fuck.

“I… no. No, I can’t. Not yet, anyway.” I explained, trying desperately not to entertain the notion that I may never be able to walk again. Stay focused, Scarlett.

Welp, we were in quite the pickle. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but just in case you forgot, I am not some delicate flower. I’m a warrior, not a waif. I’m taller than just about everyone present in the party, barring Alistair and Shale. And so, it follows that I am not easily carried.

Double fuck.

In the past, much to my chagrin, Sten had carried me during situations like this. And, as you well know, he wasn’t there. Alistair probably _could_ carry me, but with my bulky armor, there’s no way he could go at a fast enough pace for us to beat nightfall. And Shale absolutely detested anything that even remotely resembled servitude, but what choice did I have?

“Shale, you know I wouldn’t ask if there were some other way, but would you please—”

The golem let out a heaving sigh. “Yes, yes, I know what it is about to ask. Fine. Do not say I never did anything for it.”

And with that only minor protest, the golem scooped me up as if I were light as a feather and we continued on our way.

…

True to her word, Morrigan led us to the entrance of the Dalish camp just as the sun was about to disappear on the horizon. And my legs were still useless. Wonderful. So much for making a good first impression. What could I say? “Yo, I’m the last Grey Warden in Ferelden and even though half my body isn’t working, this ancient piece of paper says you’re obligated to help me out and do what I say, so hop to it!” and blow raspberries in their faces? Sure. That’ll go over well. Gah!

Ah, here’s your big chance, Scarlett. Figure it out fast. They’re headed this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple of things:  
> When I say Connor draws the circle, I mean something like this: https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/dragonage/images/2/2c/Circle_of_Magi_A_heraldry_DA2_%28screen%29.png/revision/latest?cb=20130827193851
> 
> Also, when Scarlett turns "blue," I was sort of inspired by the way Frodo looks when Sam rescues him from Shelob's lair, in case you're curious. 
> 
> Thanks!


	50. Regrets and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Scarlett severely handicapped, Alistair must step up and take the lead for once, much to his dismay. Meanwhile, a new acquaintance seems to have a preoccupation with our favorite Antivan assassin. The question is, why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, dear readers! I am sorry it's been awhile, but better late than never, right? 
> 
> Thanks so much to those of you who leave kudos and comments. They mean so much to me. If you're enjoying this story, please be sure to smash that kudos button so it gets around to more people! Thank you many! <3

They were drawing closer.

And closer.

And from what I could make out from this distance, well, it didn’t take a genius to see they weren’t exactly leaping for joy to see us. And Shale was still carrying me in her arms since my legs were still fucking useless. What in the Maker’s name was I going to do?!

Wait a minute. I may be the only Grey Warden left in Ferelden, but no one save for a select few knows that fun little fact… Hmm…

“Alistair...” I called. He soon jogged to catch up with Shale and myself.

“Yeeeeeees? Any change? Can you feel your legs yet?”

“A very good question. Can I put it down now?” Shale groaned.

I tried bending them, flexing them, kicking them. And still, nothing happened. Fanfuckingstastic.

I let out a disappointed sigh. “Not yet, no. I actually have a favor to ask.” I smiled sweetly to butter him up before I made the request.

“Anything for you, my love. Name it.” He beamed.

“I um…. I need you to do your least favorite thing.”

His sure expression immediately soured to one of uncertainty. “Er… what’s that?”

“Yes, do tell. This sounds promising.” Morrigan smirked.

“Okay. As you’ve probably noticed, the Dalish are coming this way and… well, I’m gonna need you to take the lead on this one.”

Alistair looked behind us and saw that the elves were indeed approaching, his eyes growing wide and skin growing paler with each passing second as the panic set in.

“Yeeeeah about that… I want to help, really I do but… I can’t do this. It’s a bad idea. You know how this is going to go. I’ll let my mouth run away with me and say something supremely stupid and before you know it we’ll all have something sharp and pointy directed right at our throats. How many times do I have to tell you that bad things happen when I lead?!”

“We have no choice. You’re the only other Grey Warden here. The only one the Dalish are likely to listen to.” I explained.

“But I’m not—”

“Look at me!” I loudly interrupted before he forgot himself and spilled the beans. “My current situation does not exactly inspire confidence. Who among us would feel inclined to follow an invalid into a battle of epic proportions against a dragon god?!” I posed the question to everyone, Alistair included. No one was brave enough to answer. Thought so.

“You can do this, Alistair. I know you can.” I assured him in a gentler tone. “You know the spiel by now. Grey Wardens. Blight coming. Need help. That’s it. There is no possible way you can fuck this up.”  

“I think you’re vastly underestimating me…”

“With respect, my young friend, you are intending to become king, are you not? How do you expect to run an entire country when you cannot even lead this small expedition?” Asked Zevran.

It was a fair point, but that approach was not going to help at all. Any mention of the “K-word” and Alistair tends to freak out exponentially.

“Andraste’s flaming sword, I don’t even want to be king! I don’t want any of this!” Alistair shrieked in frustration.

“You think I want to be here surrounded by hostile creatures in the blasted woods while I’m forced to be carried around like an infant?! News flash: I would much rather be in a nice warm bed, drinking wine while your mouth is doing something lovely to my lower half. But guess what? Sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do.” I snapped back as I heard the giggles of my companions erupting behind me. Their laughter softened my moody demeanor. “I need you to do this, Alistair. Please.” I paused as my eyes found his, pleading desperately. “For me.”

“Stop right there, outsider.” A slender, fair-haired female elf armed to the teeth sporting facial markings even more severe than Zevran’s warned sternly before Alistair could acquiesce to my plea. “The Dalish have camped in this spot. I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly.” Ah, there was that famed Dalish hospitality I’d heard so much about.

Alistair swallowed hard before he hesitantly turned around to face the elf.

“Actually… we’ve uh… we’ve been looking for you. For the Dalish, I mean.” Alistair explained as he began to realize there was no way for him to weasel his way out of this.

“I find that hard to believe. What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?”

“Well, I… I’m a Grey Warden. I wish to speak with your leader.” Alistair stammered.

“A Grey Warden? How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She asked.

“Oh, many people go around pretending to be Grey Wardens, do they? I suppose I see the appeal. Who wouldn’t _love_ to be declared traitors to the crown and hunted down like rabid dogs?” Alistair rolled his eyes as his unrelenting wit kicked back in. The quip seemed to loosen him up a bit. “Look, I’m the genuine article. No one else would freely admit to such a thing in this day and age—not unless they had a rather severe death wish.”

“No, that’s true. Perhaps I shall let the Keeper decide for himself. In the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself. And remember, our arrows are still trained on you. Follow me.”

And just like that, we were brought before a man named Zathrian, the apparent Keeper of this Dalish clan. He was a mage; tall, lean, and bald, and judging from his less than sunny disposition, he was none too fond of outsiders. Meatball was immediately on the defensive as soon as we got near baldy’s form, baring his teeth and growling a low, rumbling sound. Oh. That’s always a good sign. Note to self: Think twice before trusting this one.

“Hmm… I see we have guests.” He gave the Mabari a disgusted look. “Ugh. I detest canines.”

I glared at baldy, though I doubt he noticed. I was really starting to dislike this man and we hadn’t even been introduced yet. Alistair knelt down and scratched Meatball behind the ears to try and calm him down a bit.

“Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today.”

Well greetings and salutations to you, too. Asshole.

“This one claims to be a Grey Warden and wishes to speak with the clan.” The elf explained. “I thought it best to leave the decision to you.”

“That was wise of you. Ma serannas, Mithra. You may return to your post.”

“Ma nuvenin, Keeper.”

And with that, she left and baldy turned his attention back to us.

“Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guard and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?”

With Meatball now sufficiently calmed, Alistair stood back up and looked at me as though I could feed him his half of the conversation. Sorry, love. You’re on your own. I cleared my throat and nodded in Zathrian’s direction to coax him to respond before his lapse in conversational reciprocation was perceived as poor manners. Not that I should have cared. The mage sure as shit wasn’t minding his Ps and Qs.

“My name is Alistair. A pleasure.” He extended his hand for a shake. Zathrian just looked at it, head tilted to the side in perplexity. Alistair began to lower his hand, but the Keeper grabbed it just in time, shaking it limply. Okay, progress… ish…

“Manners? From a Shemlen? Interesting. What might be your mission here? Have you come to spread news of the Blight?”

The entire party’s eyebrows raised simultaneously, my own included.

“You… you know a Blight is here?” Alistair asked.

“I had already sensed the corruption spreading in the south. The existence of the Blight is not news to me. I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not.”

I took that as my cue to have a look around and craned my neck to see as much as I could of our surroundings while Shale still held me. What I saw was not pretty. Elves, moaning and writhing in agony, were strewn about the field on ratty old cots. Their skin looked pale and clammy, lousy with fever and blood and festering wounds, their loved ones trying in vain to provide small comfort in their hour of need.

It was terrible, truly. And I felt for them. But at this point I was tired and I was broken and I was growing impatient for all of this to be over. Rather than “We must save them!” my first thought was, “Great. I sense a another blasted favor coming on.” Jaded? Who, me?

“Yes, it seems like you’ve had your own troubles. What are the odds?” Alistair allowed himself a small joke as he stole a smirking glance at me, which I returned. Zathrian ignored it—all business, this one.

“I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago.”

“Guilty.” Alistair admitted as he held up said treaty for Zathrian to see. The elf just waved it away.  
“Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some explanation. Come with me.”

He led us to the heart of the camp where the sick and wounded lay dying. And then baldy spun us a yarn so unbelievable I was about ten seconds away from asking someone to slap me. To make a very long story short, these Dalish were suffering from a virulent disease. The cause?  Werewolves. You know, tall, furry, humanoid dogs with scary high intelligence, a bad bark and apparently an even worse bite. Our task was to find Witherfang, the first of these werewolves, and take the creature’s heart to Zathrian who could then end this curse that’s destroying his people. I don’t know why I was surprised. Considering all the shit I’d seen up to this point, a pack of overgrown sentient dogs really seemed quite plausible in comparison. Finding some healthy, battle-ready Dalish who were eager to help end the Blight—that would have been the weirder scenario.

“Your friend the golem carries… is she well? She has not been bitten, has she?” Zathrian asked Alistair.

“No, not by a wolf at any rate. Spiders. Nasty ones. I don’t suppose you folk have any cures for paralysis lying around...”

Zathrian hung his head. “Unfortunately not. Still, I suppose it couldn’t hurt for one of us to take a look. The one tending to the sick is named Shina. I believe she’s in her tent now. Perhaps she may be able to help.”

Alistair nodded politely as Zathrian took his leave.

“Don’t look now, Alistair, but I do believe we’re now one step closer to solidifying this alliance.” I smiled proudly.

His eyebrows raised in surprise as he came to realize I was right. “Yeah I… I guess I didn’t mess things up too badly after all, did I?” He paused to smile back at me. “Alright. First things first. Let’s visit this Shina and see about getting you back on your feet.”

I nodded in agreement and he led the way toward her tent. Yep, he _led_ the way. Alistair. Led. Totally unprompted this time. And I was positively over the moon about his progress. Overcoming your worst fear is no easy feat. Mark my words: That man is going to make one heck of a king.

We began walking to the other end of the camp to seek out this Shina, but we were interrupted by another elf with unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“Andarin atish’an, stranger. I am Athras. I hope the others have not been too harsh in their treatment of you.”  
“Hello, Athras. Don’t worry about it. Warm welcomes are in short supply these days, it seems. I won’t take it personally.” Alistair smiled as he firmly shook the elf’s hand.

“That is very kind of you. Most would assume we are unkind as a rule, and that is not the case… especially not to a Grey Warden. But we have lost much, and it is easy to forget simple niceties at such a time. I understand you are to search for the wolves in the Brecilian Forest. I would join you, but Zathrian has… forbidden me.”

“You don’t seem terribly happy about that…” Alistair noticed.

“None of us are happy about this situation, and I least of all… But I shouldn’t speak too much about this. I am sure you have little interest in my problems.”

A lesser person would have just let it drop, not caring a lick about anyone but himself. But not my Alistair. He saw a person in despair, and by the Maker he had to at least try to set it right. I loved that about him.

He looked deeply into the elf’s eyes, understanding and tenderness and sincerity playing across his expressive face as he said, “Please. I’d like to help if I can. You can talk to me.”

And just like that, the elf opened up to him. Alistair had a way of doing that. No matter how closed off or shy or untrusting the person before him was, Alistair could disarm just about anyone’s defenses in a matter of seconds. Maker, I remember the day I first met him at Ostagar, my spirit rife with grief and anger and sorrow after suffering the devastating loss of my home and family, and within an hour or two, that silly son of a bitch had me smiling. It was a gift, of that I had no doubt.

Athras explained that his wife had been infected by the curse when they were fighting the werewolves. He said Zathrian tried to ease her pain, but ultimately she succumbed and is now dead. Funny thing was, Zathrian wouldn’t let Athras see her body. The elf now believes his wife became a werewolf and Zathrian is lying so he doesn’t go chasing after her.

“If I could just... know if Danyla is alive, or what happened to her, then I could be at peace.”

“I’ll look for her while we’re out there. I promise.” Alistair vowed. The elf gave his thanks and walked away.

“Right, so, find Witherfang and now this Danyla. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?” Alistair asked anyone who was listening.

“Oh yes. The forest should be an absolute breeze to navigate with someone of your intellect leading the search.” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I never claimed to be the brains of this operation. I’m just doing the best I can. Besides, Scarlett will still be with us. It’s not like Shale’s arms get tired.” Alistair explained.

“Excuse me, but just because I do not suffer from its squishy human fatigue, do not relegate me to little more than a servant. I am better than... this.” Shale extended her arms to showcase me like I was a bulky set of luggage. It really did wonders for my self-confidence, let me tell ya.  
“I… I’m not sure that is a good idea.” Wynne asserted. “Bringing Scarlett with us in her current condition, I mean.”

“But… but she has to come. We need her. _I_ need her.” Alistair’s resolve was waning fast the more he thought about leaving me behind. Sigh. Two steps forward, one step back.

“She’s right, Alistair. Any other time you know I’d be fighting right beside you, but like this…” I gestured to my useless legs, “I’m going to be nothing but a liability.”

“Don’t say that. We can protect you, I know we can.”

“Alistair, that spider tore my armor open like it was tissue paper. It’s all but useless. And I can’t expect all of you to worry about protecting me out there while you should be watching your own backs.”

Alistair’s face fell, but he couldn’t argue with me. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort him, but Zev beat me to the punch.

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves.” Zevran chimed in. “Perhaps this Shina will be of use. Should we not find her first?”

“Right. Sorry. We were in the middle of looking for her, weren’t we? Stay on task, Alistair. Thanks for the advice, Alistair, I’ll try my best.”

And with that, we continued to make our way across camp. Only to once again be interrupted.

“What are you doing?! You’ve warped the wood completely! Did you leave it out in the rain?!”

An older elf was yelling at another many years his junior. Uh oh. If there’s one thing Alistair had zero tolerance for, it was people in power mistreating those perceived to be beneath them—thanks in no small part to his time in the chantry. No way was he going to just keep walking. Ugh. We’d never see Shina at this rate.

“N-no, Master Varathorn! I… I uh… I think I just used too much heat.” The younger elf stammered.

“You’re not smelting like a durgen’len! This is living wood! It requires patience and delicate hands, not more heat!” The elder elf chided.

“My… my actions bring me sorrow, Master Varathorn.” The apprentice whispered through his tears.

“And so they should! Truly the art will be lost to us forever at this rate!”  
“HEY!” Alistair interrupted. Loudly. The elder mage turned to look at him.

“Can you not see I am in the middle of something?”

“Yeah, I can see you’re in the middle of hauling this boy over the coals when he’s already owned up to his mistake. Cut him some slack, will you?” Alistair half-asked, half-demanded.

“Heh, that’s rich. An outsider telling me how to treat my own apprentice. Who do you think you are?”

“This has nothing to do with being an outsider. It makes no difference who you are. You don’t treat people like they don’t matter. Ever.” Alistair glared at the elf as he crossed his arms. And at that moment, I saw something new in Alistair. Something… imposing—both intimidating and authoritative. It was a side of him I’d seen glimpses of before, but only in fleeting moments. This time, it seemed like it was here to stay—at least until this matter was resolved.

“I think you owe this young man an apology.” Alistair stated leaving no room for argument.

The elf looked at his downtrodden apprentice and he softened slightly. “I am sorry. Throw away the dead wood and start anew.”

The apprentice wiped his nose on his sleeve, gave his master a nod, and went on his way. Varathron then turned his attention back to Alistair.

“Perhaps I was being… unduly harsh. This situation with the wolves has us all on edge. Is there something you needed?”

Wow. Someone willing to see reason? Will wonders never cease?

“What do you make here, exactly?” Alistair inquired.

“I’m the clan’s craftsmaster. It’s my responsibility to learn what I can of the ancient elven arts of shaping wood and ore.”

“So, let’s say we had some armor in desperate need of repair… you’d likely be able to fix it?”

“I do not operate as most smiths you are familiar with. How badly is it damaged?”

“Shale, would you mind?” Alistair asked.

With a groan, Shale rotated me like a rotisserie chicken to showcase the severity of my fractured armor.

“That is… beyond repair, I fear. However, there is a wood that grows in the forest—ironbark. It’s hard as steel but far lighter. I could make something brand new from that.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on…” Alistair replied.

“But… as you have likely learned, the Keeper has forbidden us from entering the forest to collect the wood.”

“Well, as luck would have it, we’re headed into the woods. If I found some of this ironbark, would you be willing to make us something with it? Say… a new placard for my beautiful but unfortunately immobile companion back there?” Alistair gestured to me. I gave them a wave and a shy smile.

“Yes, I believe I could do that, provided you gather enough wood.”

Varathorn went on to describe what the wood looks like and where it could be found.

“Okay so, time to recap: Witherfang, Danyla, and now ironbark. ...Right? Am I leaving anything out?” Alistair asked.

“Shina.” I reminded him.

“Right! Okay, no more distractions. Time to find this healer and get Scarlett walking again. Let’s go!”

We got, oh, another ten feet or so before Leliana spied a new furry creature that I daresay rivaled Schmooples in its cuteness. Damn that woman and her unbridled love of adorable critters!

“Look!” She gasped as she gestured toward the beast. “I have never seen anything like it in all my life!”

“I hear only the Dalish can control the halla. They listen to no one else.” Wynne imparted some of her vast knowledge to us once again.

“Halla, is it? I must pet it… I simply must or I’ll never forgive myself…” Leliana ran over to the woman attending the creature to hurriedly introduce herself.

Elora was the woman’s name, and she was all too eager to explain the symbiotic nature of the relationship between the halla and the Dalish, how they serve as companions and guides and share a bond of friendship, not servitude.

This halla in particular, the one that caught Leliana’s attention, had been bitten during a werewolf attack, or so the herder thought. Elora was not sure if the creature could be helped, or if it would be best to simply put it out of its misery, lest the infection spread to the other halla.

“There must be something we can do. Let me see…”

Leliana walked around the creature and examined it closely.

Without thinking, I groaned audibly and smacked my forehead with my hand. Whoops. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for helping animals. But I still didn’t have use of my legs, so forgive me for thinking we have bigger fish to fry than helping an unsettled deer… thing. Priorities, am I right?

“Sorry.” I offered to those of my companions who were staring at me accusingly.

Leliana knelt down in front of the halla in an attempt to calm it enough to glean what’s wrong.

“Yes, that’s it, she’s calming down. That’s it, love. Be calm. Tell me what troubles you.” Elora closed her eyes and laid a gentle hand on the creature’s long neck. “Ahh I see. It is her lifemate who is sick, not her. She fears greatly for him. I did not realize another halla was injured. This will allow me to prevent the sickness from spreading to the entire herd. Ma serannas, thank you. You have done my clan a great boon this day.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure. These halla are so beautiful and majestic… and soft… so soft…” Leliana seemingly couldn’t stop petting the poor thing. “I… I don’t suppose you have any extra laying around…”

“No more pets, Leliana.” I asserted.

“But—”

“No.” I shut her down.

She let out a defeated sigh. “Fine.”

“No, but seriously, do ya have any? They look mighty tasty…”

“Oghren!” I scolded. Elora looked mortified.

“Well, that’s our cue. See ya, Elora! Glad we could help!” Alistair led us away from there as fast as he could. Good lad.

“Nice work back there, Leliana. Now… what were we doing again?” Alistair asked.

“SHINA!” We all answered simultaneously.

“Yes, okay, got it! Let’s find her!”

A few more steps and we finally—FINALLY—found Shina’s tent. Alistair slowly lifted the flap as he called out, “Hello? Anyone home?”

“Be right out!” A decidedly female voice answered. It took a few moments, but before long an elf did indeed emerge. She had honey-colored hair, olive-toned skin, and a sharp jaw—the harshness of which was offset by the gentle features of her round nose and warm, wide mouth. She was probably in her 40s or so, and it was definitely not much of a stretch to see she was positively stunning in her younger days—heck, even now she was objectively beautiful.

“Who calls?” She asked as she struggled to put on a pair of ornate brown leather gloves.

“Hello, I’m Alistair. This is Scarlett.” He gestured to me. “Zathrian said you might be able to help us.”

“I am called Shina. And who are you?” She asked as she almost immediately approached Zevran. “Forgive me but, I feel as though we have met before.”

“Believe you me, dear lady, if our paths had previously crossed, I would have remembered it. One does not simply forget a visage as lovely as yours.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on the back of it right before taking a deep breath in.

“Ah, I do so adore the scent of leather. Brings me back to Antiva every time.”

“You… you’re from Antiva?” The elf inquired, clearly quite shocked.

“Yes, you know it?”

“I lived there. For a time.” Shina explained.  

Leliana cleared her throat in protest before the exchange could continue. “Forgive _me,_ but Zevran is not the one who cannot walk. Can we please focus on the task at hand?”  

Uh huh… now that Zev was getting flirty all of a sudden I’m top priority again. I see how it is.

“Er… yes, of course.” Shina, now with an uneasy look in her eyes, focused her attention back on me. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I got into a minor altercation with an overgrown arachnid. And, as a result, I now seem to be out two rather important appendages.” I explained as I beat my fists against my still lifeless legs.

“Sheesh. Awful fancy way of saying you got into a scrap with a spider and lost.” Oghren commented.

I gave him a glare. “Whatever. Thoughts, Shina?”

“You were poisoned then?” Shina asked.

“Yes, bitten on her back. I tried to retrieve the venom and reverse the effects, but…” Morrigan trailed off.

“Lay her down on her belly, here. I will examine the wound.” Shina gestured to a seemingly clean and unoccupied cot.

“Finally.” Shale plopped me down as quickly as she could. Nice. Real nice.

“Hmm… have you suffered any fever? Nausea? Pain?” The elf asked as she closely examined the wound.

“No, not really. I just can’t feel much of anything on the lower half of my body, it seems.”

“Oh, you poor thing. I would sooner kill myself than suffer such a fate. My lower half is by far my favorite one.” Zevran placed an unwelcome hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks, Zev. That makes me feel much better.” I rolled my eyes and shrugged his hand off.

“Well, the good news is that it does not appear to be worsening.” Shina offered.

“And the bad?” I asked.

“I have seen this before, and there is only one herb that I have known to help such a situation. However, the herb is most rare and grows in the forest. And—”

“And Zathrian has forbidden everyone from entering the forest. Yeah. We know.” I finished her sentence for her. “We need a plan.”

“Planning has never been my strong suit. Now, killing … killing and love-making. Killing and love-making and witty retorts. Those I am better at.” Zev grinned.

“Not helpful, Zevran.” I remarked.

“Okay, obviously it’s a bad idea to be in those woods at night. We won’t be able to find anything in the dark, especially not if this herb is as rare as Shina says. It’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack… blindfolded.” Alistair reasoned.

“That is your contribution? Suggesting we sit here on our hands while poison courses through Scarlett’s veins?” Morrigan asked curtly.

“I don’t like it either, okay? I want her better. Probably a heck of a lot more than you do. But I also don’t want anyone else to get hurt… or worse.” Alistair explained, and wisely so.

I nodded in agreement. “Shina said my condition isn’t worsening. I don’t want to put you all at risk on my account. This can wait until morning.”

“The ironbark… I think I recall seeing some before we reached camp. It was not too far from here and there is still a little light left. Perhaps we could retrieve that before supper. Then we could have that man get to work on Scarlett’s armor sooner rather than later.” Leliana suggested.

“Good, yes, let’s do that.” Alistair assented.

“I will stay with Scarlett and protect her, if necessary.” Wynne offered. I so hated that I now needed to be protected, but I appreciated her offer nonetheless. I gave her a grateful smile.

Alistair knelt down beside my cot and took my hands. “You’ll be alright here?”

I nodded. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. You don’t want more gray hair, do you?” I teased.

“What do you mean, ‘more’? Gah, why must you always tease about the hair?!” He nervously ran his fingers through it as I let out a slight giggle.

“Sorry, sorry. Hard to resist.” I smiled before grabbing him and kissing him sweetly. “I love you. Come back to me in one piece.”

“I love you, too. Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone.”

“No promises, though I’d say it’s a safe bet I won’t be wandering off.” I smirked.

“Er… I don’t wanna interrupt all this schmaltzy crap, but that ironbark ain’t gonna find itself.” Oghren interjected. Alistair gave him a nod, gave my forehead one last kiss, and led the way back into the ever-darkening forest.

I looked at Shina, expecting her to ask me some more questions about what happened, what we were doing here, you know, the usual. She didn’t. Her eyes remained transfixed on Zevran’s oddly graceful form as he walked away.

“I’m sorry, did you say you know Zevran?” I inquired.

“I… I’m not sure. There is something so familiar about him.” Shina explained, her eyes never leaving him.

“You said you spent some time in Antiva, right? Maybe your paths crossed?”

Shina nodded. “In my younger days. I fell in love and left my clan behind to start a new life in Antiva City. We were happy, for a time. That is, before the crushing weight of my lover’s debts doomed us all. When the time came to collect, I was lucky to escape with my life. I was on the run for a long, long time. Then, gods be praised, Zathrian took me in.”

I raised a brow. “Are you Dalish always this open with outsiders?”

If it weren’t for Alistair’s exceptional knack for getting people to trust him, Athras never would have told us about Danyla in a million years, yet here was Shina, pouring her heart out and telling us her life story. Doesn’t that seem weird to you?

A look of embarrassment befell her. “I am sorry. So many years spent away from a clan… old habits die hard. I hadn’t thought about Antiva in years, truth be told. But seeing that young man… it awakened something in me. I forgot myself.”

Wynne gave the elf a warm smile. “Don’t apologize. We are all friends here. Tell me, what was this man of yours like?” Ah, good old Wynne. Ever the busybody.

“Oh, he was nothing to write home about. A simple woodcutter, nothing more. And an elf, like me.”

“He must have been something pretty special for you to uproot your life and follow him to Antiva.” I posed.

“There were certain… attributes… that I found to be absolutely irresistible. He knew exactly how to draw me like a moth to a flame. He had an air of intrigue, of danger, of unattainability. Not unlike your Zevran. But most enticing of all, he had this arrowhead-shaped birthmark, rather high up on his _ahem_ left cheek. It was quite… unique. And it drove me wild.”  
“I take it you don’t mean his face…” I surmised.

Shina giggled. “No, I do not.”

Wynne turned a shade of red I don’t think I’d ever seen grace her skin before. She cleared her throat and took a sip of water to regain her composure. “It sounds like you two had a very… impassioned relationship. That can be hard to find. Tell me, do you regret leaving him?”

“Leaving him, no. But sadly I had to leave someone else behind in Antiva… someone whom I loved very, very much. That is my biggest regret.”

“There was another man in your life?” Wynne asked.

“Of sorts.” Shina paused as she got lost in thoughts of the one she left behind. “Do not get me wrong, I am happy here. But there is not a day that goes by that I do not think of him.”

Wynne nodded. “I know what you mean. I try not to dwell too much on the mistakes of my past, of which there are many. But I do have one regret—the greatest misstep of my life.”

I was very surprised to hear Wynne make such an admission. She always seemed so calm, so contented, so ready for whatever was to come next, be that another battle or death itself. No matter how lost I got, she always seemed to know exactly where we were meant to be. This glimpse into her vulnerable side… that was new. I had to know more.

“Tell me.” I pleaded softly.

“Years ago, I was assigned as mentor to a lad—Aneirin. He was my first apprentice, an elf raised in one of the alienages, and was very mistrustful of humans—especially humans in authority.”

“Alas, I cannot blame him for that.” Shina interjected. Wynne nodded.

“What Aneirin needed was time. Time to get used to his new home. Time to emerge from his shell so he could build a rapport. I gave him no such time. I was young and arrogant. ‘He is a mage,’ I thought. ‘He needs to grow up and act like one.’ I expected too much from him too quickly. I gave no consideration to his origin or his feelings. And he retreated further from me.”

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“Aneirin ran away from the Circle one night. I had berated him over some trivial matter that I no longer remember. He was only 14 at the time of his leaving, a mere child. The templars had his phylactery. They hunted him down.” She paused as a single tear rolled down her taut cheek. “I begged the templars to tell me if he’d suffered, if they gave him a quick death. I got no answers from them.”

“It’s not your fault, Wynne.” I offered gently.

She shook her head as more tears streamed down her face. “I should have known better. I failed Aneirin. All I had to do was listen to him. He talked about the alienage sometimes. And the Dalish. He always talked about looking for the Dalish elves.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s small consolation but, we’ve found them. If you’d like to hold a brief service to honor his memory while we’re here, I’m happy to help.” I gave her a soft smile.

“That’s… that’s a lovely thought, Scarlett. Thank you.” She dabbed her tears away with her bluebell-embroidered handkerchief.

“What of you, Scarlett? Any regrets?” Shina asked.

Not gonna lie, I was not a huge fan of how forward she was being. It made me supremely uncomfortable. But if she was the only one who could get my legs in working order, I sure as shit wasn’t about to offend her. I opted to go for a light-hearted approach to see if she’d leave it alone.

“Well, I regret going toe-to-toe with that spider. That’s for damn sure.”

Shina laughed aloud. “Yes, I am quite sure you do. But what of your past? Is there nothing you would change?”

Yeeeaaah, apparently she was not about to leave it alone. Damnit.

I nodded. “I regret a lot of things.”

“Come, share as Wynne and I have. It will make you feel better.” Shina urged.

“I… I shouldn’t have left them.” I admitted in a whisper.

“Who?” Shina asked.

“My parents. An enemy was at our gates and I left them for dead. It will haunt me for the rest of my days.” I closed my eyes as the memories came flooding back. It never took much to bring me back to that night. The night when my life was forever changed. The night where my whole world was bathed in flames. Was I still sad? Of course. My heart still ached whenever I thought of Highever, of my family. But there was more to it now. The great war was fast approaching and that meant the time for wallowing in sorrow was past. Now was the time to rise from the ashes of my past like a phoenix. I was getting so close to Howe I could almost taste his blood on the tip of my tongue… and nothing else would ever be as sweet.

I opened my eyes once more and I knew they were aflame as I stared right back into Shina’s. “But mark my words. I will have my vengeance on the man who stole them from me. And that vengeance will be swift. It will be righteous. And it will be without mercy.”

The elf blinked a few times and it’s possible my ears were playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn I heard a loud _GULP._

And just then, as if right on cue, Zevran came hobbling back into camp, his arm slung over Leliana’s shoulder as she propped him up. Ah, more good news. Lovely.

“What’s wrong?!” I called to them. “What happened?!”

“Spiders, I expected. Werewolves, I expected. Crossbow-wielding darkspawn? That, I am ashamed to say, caught me off guard. Is Alistair not meant to sense those blasted things?” Zev called back.

“You ran into darkspawn?” I asked, completely dodging the Alistair question. Yikes.  

“Yes. A small contingent, but as Zevran said, we were not expecting them here of all places. Not yet.” Leliana explained.

“Are the others alright?”

“Yes, they are fine. They were only a few paces behind us—the haul of ironwood was slowing them down. We killed the darkspawn who attacked us, but not before Zevran took an arrow to… to…”

“My supple buttock.” Zevran finished for her as they reached us.

I bit my lips into a fine line to keep from laughing. Immature? Maybe, but you can’t tell me it’s not just a little bit funny. “Oh Zev… that’s… that’s just terrible.” I offered, stifling the giggles that wanted to erupt.

“I see that smile pulling at your lips, Scarlett. Do not fight it on my account. We all know I love a good joke. Even when I am the _butt_ of it, so to speak.” The elf smirked.

I shook it off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. Really. Are you OK?”

“I believe so, but I was hoping our new friend Shina might be willing to take a look. Would you mind, my dear? I’d hate for an untreated injury to permanently mar such physical perfection.” Zevran’s smirked widened to a grin.

“Of course.” Shina blushed slightly. “Would you like to join me in my tent?”

“Ah, there is no need for such discretion, my dear lady. Everyone here as seen my backside on more than one occasion. And then some.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I groaned.

Zevran lifted the leather lappets of his armor to show the wound to Shina, who gasped almost immediately.

“I do hope you gasp at the sight of such loveliness and not at the severity of my condition.” Zev joked.

“The… the wound is not serious, but… have you always had this mark?” Shina asked frantically.

“Mark? What mark?” Zev asked, suddenly all serious.

Leliana looked to where Shina was pointing and let out a relieved chuckle. “Oh, that is just a birthmark. He has had it since I have known him.”

“It’s… it’s shaped like an arrowhead.”

It took, oh, about 1.5 milliseconds before the gravity of that observation hit me like a ton of bricks.

… Oh.

Holy.

Fuck.

Okay, calm down, Scarlett. This might not mean what you think it means. Just stay quiet and see how all this plays out.

“Huh… I suppose it is. I always thought of it as more of a butterfly. Hm… yes, a butterfly with closed wings.” Leliana admitted as she further scrutinized the mark.

“Greetings, Shina. I thought I would stop by before I retire to check on our guests. Is everything going well?” Zathrian inquired as he strode up to our little corner of camp. Leliana hurriedly covered Zevran’s exposed rear.

“Y… yes, Keeper.” Shina offered.

“Then tell me, why do you look as if you have seen a spirit?”

“I… I…”

“What happened? What have you done to her?” Zathrian interrogated accusingly.  
“We have done nothing, I assure you. We encountered darkspawn in the forest and Shina was merely examining my wound. Or is that some Dalish offense we know not of?” Zevran countered.

He glared at Zevran but opted to let it go before the argument escalated further. And I guess that’s when he noticed we weren’t all present.

“Where are the others in your party? Do they seek Witherfang?”

“They had some other matters to attend to. They will return shortly.” I jumped in since no one else seemed to want to.

“Time grows short. If darkspawn are already in the forest, it is only a matter of time before they attack the camp. You have been given your task. Finish it.” Zathrian growled.

I held my tongue and dug my nails into the palms of my hands, which were now forming into fists. Who in the Maker’s name did he think he was talking to? Grey Wardens are not his fucking errand boys! Breathe, Scarlett. Breathe.

“Two of our party are now wounded. We are not equipped to do as you ask tonight. We will begin the search for Witherfang at first light, I assure you.” I explained, trying my damndest to keep my tone even and my rising anger at bay.

“And I shall go with them.” Shina offered.

“No, Shina. It is far too dangerous and you are needed here. I cannot allow it.”

“I am not asking your permission, Keeper.”

Zathrian had a look on his face as though he had just been slapped. Hard. When the shock wore off, the look turned into one of unbridled outrage.

“After all I have done for you! After we took you in! You would dare betray me? Betray your clan? Again?!”

Shina stood protectively in front of Zevran as she looked Zathrian square in the eyes.

“If I must, yes. Though it kills me to betray my clan, I could never betray… my son.”


	51. Breaking the Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Shina's admission, Scarlett gets to see a rare, more genuine side of Zevran. Meanwhile, the gang gets yet another taste of the very real danger lurking within the Brecilian Forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologize for taking so long to update, dear readers. I've been insanely busy and I hadn't been feeling especially inspired. I hope you enjoy this chapter and, as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated. :)

My eyes were wide as saucers as I stared up at Zevran, the shock and tension hanging oppressive and heavy in the air as we all awaited some semblance of a response to Shina’s earth-shattering admission. Leliana and Wynne struck similar poses. And, as luck would have it, that exact moment was when the rest of my esteemed companions joined up with us.

“Phew!” Alistair exclaimed as he made a big production dropping the bundle of wood on the ground and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I know the smith said ironbark was lighter than steel, but you could’ve fooled me.”

Nobody, not even me, responded to his oblivious outburst. A puzzled look befell his face as he began to take in the scene unfolding before him.

“Okaaaaay, what did I miss?” Alistair asked as he noticed all of us still staring at Zevran, slack-jawed and awestruck.

Finally, Zevran took it upon himself to break the deafening silence.

“You must be mistaken, dear lady. My mother is dead.” Zev stated, his tone even and casual.

Shina hung her head in shame. “I… I told them to tell you I was dead. I couldn’t bear the thought of you thinking I abandoned you.” She moved to lay a gentle hand on the other elf’s shoulder, but he flinched and immediately moved his body beyond her reach. Shina hung her head even lower as she whispered, “I knew, somehow. From the moment I first saw you, I knew. A mother always knows. You _are_ my son.”

“No.” Zevran replied, his carefully crafted mask of blasé humor and deflective wit slowly melting away to reveal a much more vulnerable, painfully raw side of him. “You know nothing. My mother is dead, do you hear me?! DEAD.” He said it vehemently, as though it were the truest statement he’d ever spoken. “I will hear no more of this.” Zevran turned on his heels and stormed off, leaving Shina behind with her arm outstretched toward him, looking lost and alone.

“Your son? Truly? Why did you make no mention of this, Shina?” Zathrian asked. He was clearly still irritated, but that irritation was now laced with a wisp of curiosity.

“I never thought… reuniting with him... after all this time… I didn’t… I should go to him.” Shina, apparently unable to form even one complete thought, began to go after Zevran, who had by now made it close to the edge of the forest.

Zathrian grabbed her by the wrist and forced her to look at him. “Do what you must, but know this: Should you depart with these Shemlens tomorrow against my wishes, do not bother coming back. Do you understand?”

She gave Zathrian the slightest of nods and he let her go, leaving to retire for the night with a major chip on his shoulder. Shina was not even slightly deterred and she made her way toward Zevran, whose form was now almost completely engulfed by the dark forest.

“... What just happened? Am I imagining things or did Shina just claim to be Zevran’s mother?” Alistair asked, the confusion plain on his face.

“She is claiming that, yes…” I confirmed as my eyes narrowed on the now distant she-elf.

“You remain unconvinced…” Morrigan noticed.

“I remain… skeptical, yes.” I nodded.

Morrigan gave me a nod back, the slightest hint of a pleased smile gracing her lips. “Very good. I see all that time spent in Alistair’s company has not yet made you a complete fool.”

“But… but the things she knew! The birthmark, the woodcutter, even the gloves! Zev has confided these things in me before. You were there, too, Scarlett.” Leliana exclaimed.

I nodded. “I remember. And I’ll admit that part has me a bit stumped. But for them to spend their entire lives apart and stumble upon each other now? Here, of all places? I don’t like it. It’s too convenient. The world can’t possibly be that small, can it?”

“You have been burned by those you thought trustworthy before. I know this.” Leliana began as she laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “But every once in awhile, the Maker grants us a miracle. Shina may be one such miracle. I understand your suspicion, but a mother’s love is not something that can ever be replaced. Shina may be able to give him that. After all Zevran has been through, does he not deserve that chance?”

“I won’t rob him of that chance, Leliana. But I will be watching this Shina.” My eyes remained trained on the elf as Shina’s figure, too, became nothing but a distant shadow enveloped by the treeline. “Closely.”

“Wow. I don’t believe it. I was gone for maybe an hour and look what I miss. Maker have mercy, what a day. This being a leader thing is exhausting.” Alistair chimed in as he winked at me, desperately trying to dissipate the apprehension that was still very much present around us.

“Tell me about it.” I smirked. “So, you found the wood?”

“We did. And also some darkspawn. What a special treat that was. I’m beat. Oghren, Shale, would you mind giving that ironbark to the smith so he can get started?”

“Last I checked, _you_ still got two workin’ legs, ain’t ya?” Oghren countered.

“Yeah, but something tells me Scarlett may need my help assembling her tent this evening.” Alistair grinned.

“Gee, whatever would give you that impression?” I rolled my eyes.

“I mean, you could barely do it before this happened.” He gestured to my legs. “I can’t even imagine the mess you’d make of it now.”

“Sure, sure. Kick me while I’m down. I can take it.” I feigned offense.

Shale crossed her arms stubbornly.”I do not care about the loud-mouth’s supposed superior lineage. I do not take orders from it. Not now. Not ever.”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. Tired, I was so tired. I was in no mood for squabbling.

“You have every right to decline his request, though I would very much appreciate it if you would help us out. Please.”

The statue let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. Demoted to hard labor once again, I see. I swear, I do not know why I remain here.”

“Oh come on. You love it here. Who else’s company would give you the opportunity to kill so many squishy creatures in one go?”

“Hmpf. A fair point. Come, dwarf. Let us complete this menial task that we may recommence with said killing.”

“For once, we agree on somethin’.” Oghren assented.

Shale and Oghren gathered the ironbark and my broken armor and made their way toward Master Varathorn. Alistair left to put up our tent. Morrigan took that as her cue to leave as well.

Leliana sat down beside me on my cot, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“... Scarlett?”

“Leliana?”

“I’m worried. About Zevran. He seemed really upset. I’ve never seen him like that. Not ever.”

I nodded slowly. “I know. He’s… gotta be going through a lot right now.”

“It must be quite a shock, going your whole life believing one thing then coming to realize everything you thought you knew was wrong.” Wynne explained.

“Do you… um, think I should try to talk to him?” Leliana asked shyly.

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you that, Leliana. You know him better than I do.” I explained as gently as I could.

“Do I? Sometimes I’m not sure. He’s always so… guarded. Even when we’re alone together.”

“I thought that was how you preferred it…” I reminded her.

“It was. I mean, it is. I mean…”

“You sound somewhat unsure, my dear.” Wynne gave her a warm, knowing smile.

Leliana let out a big sigh. “Probably because I am. What I feel for him… it is not love. I know that. But I do find myself… caring for him.” She paused for a moment before the realization of what she just admitted dawned on her. “I mean, as I have come to care for all of you, that is.” Nice save. “I don’t like seeing him this way.”

“He’ll be alright. Zevran is nothing if not resilient. He probably just needs some time.” I offered.

“Time alone? Or time with someone willing to listen?” Leliana asked.

“Listen to your heart,” Wynne advised. “What does it tell you?”

Leliana closed her eyes for a moment, really taking the time to home in on her feelings.

“It tells me that… that he might need me.”

“Then go to him.” Wynne suggested.

Leliana shot right up off my cot, her back straight as an arrow, newfound determination in her eyes. “I will!”

And just like that, _poof,_ she was gone. Wynne let out a quiet chuckle followed by a big yawn.

“I do hope they will be alright. Zevran especially. This cannot be at all easy to swallow.” Wynne shared as soon as Leliana was out of earshot.

“Zevran is strong. I think he just needs some space to sort through his feelings. I mean, I don’t even know what to make of all this and she’s not even claiming to be _my_ mother.” I paused as I thought more about how all this might play out. “Don’t get me wrong. He can handle this. Zevran… has seen some shit.”

“Language!” Wynne scolded.

“Wynne, a plague is running rampant through the Dalish camp, I’m paralyzed, and Zevran’s life is in shambles. Not to mention, I’ve dropped the F-bomb in your presence more times than I care to count. Let’s pick our battles a bit more wisely, k?”

The mage chuckled at that. “Fair enough.”

“Alright, the tent is now assembled, my lady. Ready for bed? I know I am.” Alistair yawned as he came to stand beside Wynne.

“Well, I am sure Alistair can take it from here. Goodnight, you two.”

“Goodnight, Wynne.” Alistair and I said in unison as she walked off.

“So, are you going to let me carry you for once, or do I have to call Shale back over?” Alistair asked. “Though something tells me she’s had it up to here with me asking for favors.”

“Er… I guess. But one smart comment about my weight and I swear to the Maker I will crush you in your sleep.” I scowled.

“Eesh. Spending too much time around the golem, it seems.”

My glare never faltered.

“Oh come on, like I would even dare! I may have a nasty habit of putting my foot in my mouth, but I would prefer my head to stay firmly attached to my body, thank you very much. Besides, I tell you just about every chance I get how beautiful you are. That has to count for something, right?”

He gave me a sweet smile, which I managed to return. He bent his knees and slipped one arm under my legs and another under my back. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Ready?”

“I—”

And just like that, before I could even finish my sentence, he had me off the cot and in his arms and carried me to the tent without so much as a single grunt or groan. Huh… I guess without the heavy armor weighing me down this whole thing wasn’t such a big deal as I’d made it out to be after all. Who’da thunk?

He leaned down and laid me gingerly at the tent’s entrance.

“There. You’re all set.” He smiled down at me. “Hungry?”

“Not really. Being wrapped up as spider leftovers sort of put me off my appetite. But thank you.” I gave him a warm smile back.

“Yeah, I suppose I can understand that. Soooooo, is there room for one more in there?” His smile suddenly became quite mischievous.

“There’s always room for you by my side.” I scooted over as best I could and held the flap open for him.  
“Damn. That was a good line. I should write that one down.”

“Couldn’t hurt.” I gave him a wink before Meatball came storming into the tent with a happy bark, giving my face a lick and carving out space for his sizeable frame to my right. “Yes, yes, I suppose there’s always room for you, too.” I scratched the Mabari behind the ears as he laid down beside me. I reclined as well, extending my arm out so I could wrap it around Alistair once he laid down—a position we typically assumed during pre-sleep cuddles.

“I uh… I actually thought tonight _you_ might like to be held for once. All of this, the fight, losing the use of your legs, being a spectator instead of taking the lead… I’m sure it hasn’t been easy on you.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Scarlett…” He taunted. “Come on. I know you think you always have to be the strong one, but you don’t. Not with me. It’s okay to take your armor off once in awhile.”

“My armor is off.” I argued as I gestured to my body clad only in my blouse, trousers, and boots.

He shook his head. “Not the armor I meant. You were going to try and be more open with me, remember?”

He folded my arm over my chest and laid down next to me, wrapping one arm around my waist and slipping the other under my neck. I turned into him, burying my face in his neck and breathing in the scent of him as he lovingly stroked my hair. And it was just what the doctor ordered.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

I nodded as I nuzzled into him. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He chuckled. “Don’t go throwing compliments around like that, Scarlett. Such flattery is bound to go to my head and before you know it I’ll develop something that resembles a self-esteem.”

I planted a soft kiss on his skin before slowly pulling away to find his eyes. “I um… I don’t know how to say this without it sounding incredibly condescending, but uh… you really made me proud today, Alistair.”

He smiled brightly as he kissed my forehead. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s the thing… for the first time, I saw that you absolutely _could_ have done it without me. You were strong. You were assertive. You got things done. It was… awesome.”

He shyly broke my gaze, a light blush painting his cheeks.

“I don’t… I mean, I didn’t—”

“Just take the compliment, Alistair.” I smirked.

He turned even redder still. “Gah, you’re changing the subject! We were talking about you, not me. Come on. Out with it, Cousland.”

Damnit. Foiled again! Okay, here goes. Open and honest.

“I… I’m feeling… worried.” I paused before quickly adjusting my answer. “For Zevran.”

And that was true, though that wasn’t the entirety of what was really occupying my thoughts. Baby steps, Scarlett.

“... Just for Zevran?” Alistair prodded.

“Whatever do you mean?” I gave him my most innocent stare.

“I mean there’s absolutely no way that Zevran is the only thing rolling around in that noggin’ of yours.”

“But—”

“Scarlett…”

I let out a long sigh. I had been beaten.

“What if…” I began, but quickly lost my nerve.

“...Yeeeees?”

“What if Shina’s wrong? What if we can’t find this elusive ‘herb,’ or it doesn’t work? Do you realize what that would mean?”

“You... might never walk again.” He whispered solemnly.

“No. I mean, yes, but… this is bigger than that. It would mean the Archdemon wins, Alistair. It would mean Game Over. No way am I killing that purple son of a bitch without the use of my legs. And, as I’m sure you’ll recall, I don’t exactly have an understudy.”

He thought about that particular conundrum good and hard before replying.

“I know we’ve been led to believe only a Grey Warden can end a Blight. But I’ve come to learn that Duncan, Maker rest him, was very fond of his secrets. I mean, we’ve all been killing darkspawn. I’m still cutting down my fair share despite being cured of the taint. Maybe what we’ve been led to believe isn’t 100 percent true…”

“The Archdemon is different. I can’t explain how I know, but I just… do. I feel it. You remember what things were like for me in the Deep Roads. There’s some kind of metaphysical connection there. It’s a job for a Grey Warden and no one else.”

He had no comeback for that one. His eyes fell and his mouth drooped into a frown as the feeling of hopelessness began to wash over him just as it had overtaken me. But unlike me, he refused to let it get the better of him. That frown turned upside down in a matter of seconds and he was back to his old self.

“Hmm… maybe I could just throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, load you into a catapult, and hurl you into the air so you make the killing blow as you crash back down.”

“Alistair…” I rubbed my temples and groaned. I was in no mood.

“Or maybe we could fashion some kind of rope pulley system where I tug your strings like a marionette during combat… I do recall you having a rather positive reaction to being tied up…” He grinned fiendishly.

Alright, I admit that one, in addition to making me blush profusely, did make me smile. That jerk.

“There’s a way.” He smiled reassuringly as he ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “There’s always a way. You’ll see.”

…

Morning came all too soon, as it so often did. And I’ll admit that I was stupidly holding out hope that somehow all of this was a bad dream and I’d wake up and magically be able to walk again. Silly Scarlett. Hope is for kids.

When I awoke, Alistair was no longer beside me. Much to my surprise, I heard him rustling through our supplies outside, no doubt getting ready to head into the woods to find Witherfang and secure this last blasted treaty. I really appreciated him stepping up like this; it meant the world to me that I had someone I could count on no matter what. I made a mental note to find some way to thank him, if we made it out of here.

I was in the middle of my morning stretch when someone began to tug at the flap of the tent.

“Getting ready to head out?” I called to the figure outside who I believed to be Alistair.

“Soon. But I was hoping to steal a moment of your time before we do.” Zevran answered back in a more serious tone that I’d ever heard from him before. “May I come in?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out. It’s not like I can come to you.” I half-joked. He entered the tent and were it not for the thick Antivan accent uttered moments before, I’m not sure I would have even recognized him. His hair was a frizzy, unkempt mess, his cheeks sunken and eyes shrouded in dark circles.

“Didn’t sleep a wink, did you…” I observed.

“No.” Was his only reply.

I waited for him to open up, to initiate some conversation. He didn’t. He just sat beside me in strained silence, and I let him. It’s best not to push too hard in delicate situations such as these.

When he was ready, he’d tell me. Of that much I was certain.

After several minutes went by, Zev found the courage to speak.

“I… I have never found it an easy thing to… let anyone get close. Anytime I have, the results have been… disastrous.”

I nodded. “I know the feeling.”

“I wish you to know that despite the… unusual circumstances under which we met, I count you among my closest friends. Were that not true, I do not believe I would be able to tell you this.”

“You can tell me anything, Zev. Really. You’re one of my closest friends, too. You’ve all become like family to me.”

The elf nodded slowly as he removed a dagger from its sheath and began fiddling with it absent-mindedly.

“Yes, despite appearances sometimes, I believe I have found something like a family here, with you and Leliana and the others. We may squabble, but what family does not?” Zevran flashed a bittersweet smile before a deep sadness once again overtook his countenance. “There was a time, not so long ago, that I was a part of something that closely resembles this. And that is what I wish to tell you, though it is… not painless for me to do so. Still, I feel it is necessary so you have the full picture when I ask you to advise me about these… recent developments. You have been a good friend to me. I see no reason why I should remain silent.”

“I’m here, Zev. I’m listening.” I offered gently as I met his eyes, though he looked away almost immediately.

He took a deep breath before he began, his eyes focused on the sharp steel blade dancing between his adept fingers. “There was a reason I took this mission in Ferelden, far away from home. My last mission, before this one... did not end well.” He paused before clarifying. “Er… I suppose I should say the mission itself was quite successful. I mean that it did not end well for me.”

“How so?” I asked softly.

“You must realize that until that day, I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often. Both as an assassin and lover.”

“You mean to tell me you were _more_ cocky and arrogant?” I teased, trying to cheer him up a bit. I did manage to get the slightest of chuckles before he dove back in.

“Indeed. I was often told I was insufferable… One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise. A wealthy merchant with many guards. Taliesen, my best friend and fellow Crow, agreed to be part of my team, as well as an elven lass named Rinna. She was… a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked. We three complemented each other well. Rinna oversaw planning, Taliesen provided the muscle, and I handled poisons and seductions. This bond eventually led to the three of us becoming... romantically involved. But Rinna was special. I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me. So, when Taliesen had revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her. Rinna begged me not to. On her knees with tears in her eyes she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us…”

Zev began to lose his composure at that, his voice thick with tears. “I… I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, I didn’t care. Taliesen cut her throat, and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows. When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant, we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all.”

“Oh Zev…” I placed a consoling hand on his arm. “I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea.”

He nodded as he tried to regain control of himself, abandoning the dagger in favor of resting his hand on mine.

“I felt… empty. I felt as if I was nothing. I felt as if _she_ had been nothing. You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted to was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens? And then, this happened. And here I am.”

Wow. Just wow. How could I possibly respond to a story like that? Should I crack a joke? Should I try to tell him a tragic story of my own to assure him he wasn’t the only one to know suffering? Should I compliment his strength, his resilience? Nothing seemed to fit. So I opted for honesty instead.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“It is alright. It just feels good to speak of it to someone. I swore I never would. Regardless, I hope you now understand why I have… misgivings, about this woman who claims to be my mother.”

“Of course.” I replied, unsure of where the heck to steer the conversation from here. “Um… Shina… she followed you last night. Did you two… talk?”

“Briefly. I was not in a terribly chatty mood.”

“Understandable. I guess the real question is: Do you believe her?”

“Yes, that is the million-sovereign question. And for the life of me, I do not have a good answer. She knows things… things I’ve told no one but those closest to me. And I do not know what someone could possibly stand to gain by falsely claiming to be the estranged mother of an Antivan assassin. Such associations are often considered… unsavory, to put it mildly. That is why I have come to you. Do you think I should give her the benefit of the doubt?”

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m afraid I don’t have a good answer either.”

I paused as I tried to consider the situation carefully. He made two good points: Why on earth would someone impersonate Zevran’s mother? To what end? And she did know some rather _intimate_ details about him. But something just seemed... off about this. And after what he just told me about Rinna, how could I possibly advise him to take a chance and open his heart when it had been ripped out of his chest and completely obliterated right before we met?

“Leliana thinks this could be some sort of miracle.” I offered. That’s it, Scarlett. When in doubt, throw someone else’s opinion to the wall and see what sticks.

Zev let out a light titter. “Yes, she said something to that effect last night. Is it… _cute._ But you and I both live in the real world, Scarlett. At least, most of the time. We know miracles are few and far between.”

“That they are. But they have been known to happen. Alistair and me escaping Ostagar. Finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Oghren taking a bath. Becoming good friends with someone who tried to kill me.” I nudged his shoulder with mine. He playfully nudged me back.

“So, you are saying I should give her a chance?”

“I can’t tell you what to do here, Zev. What I can tell you is what _I_ would do. Whenever I’m faced with a really hard decision, I picture in my mind a big scale, of sorts. And I weigh every single aspect of that situation, placing each on the left or right side. And once I’ve considered all that, the scale is usually tipped one way or the other. And I let that guide me.”

He nodded slowly, a pensive look playing on his face as his brows furrowed, as though he were really mulling my words over. Then, in a blink, he jumped to his feet in one fluid motion, scaring me half to death.

“Or I could just throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall where they may.”

I placed a hand on my chest to feel my now-pounding heart. I so was not expecting that!

He laughed heartily at my fragile state. “Forgive me, my Fereldan rose, but I am a man of action. The thought of all that thinking is most... _unappealing._ ”

I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I shook my head. “Ah. There’s my Zevran.”  

He flashed me another smile, one that had staying power this time, before beginning to make his way out of the tent. It seemed our talk had done him some good.

“Zev?” I called before he left.

“Hmm?” He turned back around to face me.

“I just want you to know, if Shina is who she claims and you wish to stay here with her, I won’t stand in your way. You’d be sorely missed, but—”

“Say no more, Scarlett. I promised you I would see this through, and I intend to keep that promise. There will be time for family reunions after we save the world, yes? And just so _you_ know, whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal.”

“I’m glad you’re with us.” I smiled warmly.

“So am I.” He smiled back. “Oh! I almost forgot. Here.” He tossed me a flask filled with… something.

“Er… what is this?”

“Something for you to wrap your lovely lips around. Though I do have a few alternatives in mind, if you prefer.” He winked.

“Ugh. We were having such a nice moment, Zev. Why oh why must you ruin it by being… you?”

“Oh just drink it, will you? You’ll be walking again in an hour.”

“I’m not going to just drink some random—wait, what did you just say?”

“I said drink it.”

It felt as though my heart was in my throat. Should I even dare to hope? Was it really possible? Could the solution really be this simple?

“This… this will make me better?”

“I know my poisons, Scarlett. It’s one of my many talents.” The elf boasted. “That and seduction, as you will recall. And since you seem to somehow remain immune to my charms, perhaps my skills in the former can serve you well.”

“But… but why didn’t you say something sooner?! Do you know how terrible this has been for me?! I’ve been worried out of my skull!”

“Simple: You never asked.” Zevran sneered smugly.

I hastily screwed the lid off the flask and drank down its contents. It tasted like liquefied death, but I didn’t care. If it meant being able to walk again, I’d drink an entire lake’s worth of the stuff if I had to.

I was powerless to stop the grimace that followed me swallowing the vile drink down. After a couple of shallow coughs, I found my voice again.

“You have got to be kidding me…”

“Alright. I confess, it was difficult for me to see you suffer so. But you must understand, I have a future to think about.”

I gave him a bewildered look. “... I don’t follow.”

“Alistair is to be king, yes? And quite soon, once this treaty is secured. There is plenty of work to be had when you’re an assassin who is in good with a royal. He will have need of my services, I guarantee it. But first, he needs to know what it means to lead—to make tough decisions and show some spine once in awhile. And, forgive me for saying so, but you coddle him, my dear. When I saw you were… temporarily indisposed, I seized the opportunity.”

Oooh that sneaky son of a bitch! I was fuming, and I’m sure Zevran could see it on my face because that prideful grin he was sporting was quickly fading to a look of worry around the edges. But my rage wore off a lot more quickly than usual. Probably because deep down, I knew he was right. Alistair was never going to meet his full potential with me always doing everything for him. I understood. I was still hopping mad, but I understood.

“Okay.” I nodded. “I appreciate your position, and I am grateful for the rescue, but as soon as my legs start working again, I am totally kicking your ass.”

The elf, taking my threat as a jest, breathed a sigh of relief. “Promises promises,” he wiggled his brows and smiled lasciviously as he took his leave.

…

True to Zev’s word, I was up and about again in about an hour’s time. Granted, it felt like I was walking on some especially pointy pins and needles with every step I took and my legs were as wobbly as jelly, but I was so not about to complain. As soon as I found I was able to stand again, I was so relieved I actually cried.

“Scarlett! You… you can walk!” Alistair practically squealed and rushed to swoop me up in his arms and pepper my face with kisses as soon as I emerged from the tent. And I very much welcomed the gesture, returning his embrace and not caring a lick about who was watching us. I was just so freaking happy.

“How is this possible?” Shina asked when she walked up to see what was causing all the commotion. The look on her face was hard to place, but it didn’t take a genius to see she wasn’t as thrilled for me as she could have been. … Weird.

“I know. This much beauty _and_ brains in but one package? It does indeed seem impossible. Yet here I stand.” Zevran crossed his arms as he struck a casual pose against a nearby tree trunk, obviously extremely pleased with himself.

“ _You_ healed her?” Shina asked.

“Guilty.”

“... He did?” Alistair asked incredulously.

I nodded. “I gotta give credit where it’s due. Zev knows his poisons.”

Alistair slowly let me go and made his way over to the elf, extending his hand for a shake. “Thank you. I mean it. For awhile there, we were…” Alistair let the thought trail off. “Well, we owe you one, Zevran.”

“Bah, so formal!” Zevran swatted Alistair’s hand away and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Think nothing of it, my friend! I am glad my skills came in handy. It seems my training as a Crow can be useful on many levels, no?” Ah. Nice shameless plug there, Zev.

Alistair wiped Zevran’s kiss off his cheek as quickly as he could. He didn’t say so, but something like “YUCK” was definitely written all over his face.

“… Right. Sufficiently weirded out now. Anyway, where do we go from here?” Alistair asked me.

“You tell me.” I smirked. He wasn’t off the hook yet. Legs or no legs, he started this mission as the leader, and I wanted him to finish it that way, too.

“Uh… I guess since you’re up and about we should head into the forest and find Witherfang, right?”

I nodded. “Good answer.”

“I’m coming with you.” Shina interjected.

“I appreciate the offer, but we really don’t need—”

“With all due respect, Scarlett, I did not back down from Keeper Zathrian and I certainly will not back down from you. I’ve already lost too much time with my son. Every moment he is here is precious. I am coming with you. Besides, the Brecilian Forest is… tricky to navigate. You’ll need a guide.”

I glanced in Zevran’s direction, asking if he was okay with this without really verbalizing it. He just gave me the slightest of nods.

“Alright then. I just need to make a quick visit to the smith and then we can be on our way.”

…

My armor wasn’t ready, so Varathorn gave me a set on loan. It was built for a decidedly more petite body than my own—and also for a man, because no fucking way was I about to flounce around a deadly wood in a short leather skirt and breastband as my only protection as most Dalish women seemed to do—but it was better than nothing.

As we walked deeper into the forest, Alistair and I arm in arm until I could get my sure footing back, I could sense something was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. It was killing them not to tease me about my new ill-fitting attire, but they were being nice enough not to say anything to my face. As a result, all I could hear were hushed whispers and childish giggles.

Okay, enough is enough.

I turned around to face them all, extending my arms as wide as I could and displaying my ensemble in all its horrible glory before shouting, “Alright. Come on. Here I am! Laugh it up!”

At first they just looked at me, mortified expressions on their faces. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I took it upon myself to raise Alistair’s and my hands in the air and do a twirl, which almost caused me to fall flat on my face. Too much too soon, Scarlett. Sheesh. But I managed to salvage it and transitioned into a curtsey, which, in this getup, was likely a sight to see. Then, Leliana of all people, began to break. The giggle was quiet at first, and she tried to disguise it with a cough, but it was infectious and soon spread to Zevran. And it wasn’t long before every single one of them was laughing out loud.

“Thanks for the support, guys. It means a lot.” I groaned with a smile. I didn’t relish being the butt of a joke, but it did my heart good to see my companions sharing a laugh—even if it was at my expense.

“Oh but it suits you! You look so… so…” Zevran searched desperately for a word that was complimentary, but the struggle said it all.

“Ridiculous?” I offered.

“No no no. More like… Intimidating. Larger than life. RAWR!”

Only Zevran’s “Rawr” was completely drowned out by a much more real and much more terrifying sound. We all turned around simultaneously to assess the threat. And for the first time, I saw me a werewolf.

A small pack of them, to be more precise. And they were out for blood. Drool hanging from their bared fangs, eyes almost glowing red with rage, claws extended and razor sharp. They wielded no weapons, but if I were a guessing person, I’d say those claws and fangs alone would prove to be quite effective in a scrap.

“Don’t let them bite you!” I shouted as I drew my sword. Alistair quickly moved so we were back to back, not only to ensure we wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but also to prop me up. Point for him.

I barely finished the sentence when they lunged for us, all teeth and fur and raw muscle. They were enormous, easily dwarfing Alistair and myself. Have I mentioned that I miss Sten, cuz… that’s totally a thing.

Their claws swiped and slashed as their jaws nipped and chomped. I tried to parry the attacks, but their sheer strength outmatched ours by so much it was almost laughable. Evasive maneuvers would be our best bet here. And, luckily, they wore no armor, so despite their impressive strength, a blow from our weapons would do some irreparable damage.

Meatball, being the protective and amazing war hound that he is, quickly dove into the fray when a wolf tried attacking me, locking his vice-like jaw around its thick ankle. The wolf howled in agony and I seized the moment to drive my sword right through the creature’s sternum, killing it immediately. There, that wasn’t so bad. One down, two to go.   

Shale grabbed the one that was readying to pounce on Wynne and held it up in the air, its snout firmly held shut by the golem’s stone grip. The wolf wriggled and tried to scrape its way to freedom by digging its claws in wherever it could reach, but Shale just let out a hearty laugh.

“Oh, do stop. That tickles.”

“Keep it steady now!” Oghren shouted as he repeatedly and mercilessly lodged his ax into the creature’s back until its body went limp.

I quickly scanned the area to try and see where the third one ended up, but everything was happening so fast I found myself struggling to keep up. When I saw where the wolf actually was, panic overtook me.

Zevran was in trouble. He became isolated from the rest of us somehow, and had fallen to the ground. He was scooting back as fast as he could, but his adversary clearly had the upper hand; the elf couldn’t hope to get back up on his feet before the wolf went for his jugular. He was too far to reach in time, but the display was close enough to see the wolf’s impressive back muscles wriggling beneath its furry coat as it prepared to go in for the kill. Leliana loosed an arrow and the wolf howled in pain, but it remained focused on its prey. Zev, out of options, threw his daggers at the creature and they did hit home, but its skin was so thick that it barely seemed phased. I began to run to him anyway—I had to at least try—and just as quickly fell down, my face in the dirt. Thanks, legs.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck!

It was then that Shina stepped in front of the other elf, her staff glowing as she uttered words I couldn’t hope to understand, and within seconds the wolf was rendered unconscious. It was unlike any magic I had ever seen. She walked up to the sleeping dog, removed one of the daggers lodged in its hide, and drove it straight into the creatures heart.

“You… you saved my life.” Zevran said breathlessly.

“Of course I did. Family needs look out for each other, right?” Shina smiled warmly as she grabbed his hand and helped him off the ground.

Zev got back to his feet as he met the woman’s eyes, their touch lasting longer than was entirely necessary as he decided to grace her with a wide, grateful—dare I say trusting?—smile back.

“Right.”


	52. Miles to Go Before I Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Navigating the Brecilian Forest proves to be fruitless and frustrating, though there are a few pleasant surprises to be found in Alistair's budding leadership skills (much to Scarlett's bewilderment) and Wynne's chance meeting with an old acquaintance. Still, the party's patience grows thin as the day drags on, and who knows what treachery awaits as night falls?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. Comments and kudos, as always, are appreciated. Thanks, my lovelies!

Whatever barrier Zevran perceived to be standing between himself and Shina seemed to come crashing down as soon as they touched. From that moment on, the two were seemingly inseparable—Zev’s eyes all aglow with curiosity and a hint of sentiment as the other elf went on and on about her adventures since leaving Antiva. The chatterbugs hung near the back of the group as we pressed forward—which was more than mildly frustrating since Shina was supposed to be our guide through this unholy place—and I tried to keep my occasional eavesdropping on the downlow, only allowing myself to steal a glance behind me once every fifteen minutes or so. Zev seemed to be okay. No, more than that; he seemed to be… happy.

Shina was right—the Brecilian Forest is definitely tough to navigate. In addition to wolves, and bears, spiders, and the occasional darkspawn, the trees themselves somehow magically came to life. And, of course, they were not happy little trees. This particular variety of overgrown saplings was just as quick to kill you as every other Maker-forsaken thing we’d come up against in this horrid place. It’s amazing, really. Just when I thought I’d seen all manner of impossible things, along come homicidal Sylvans. Wonders never cease.

On top of all that loveliness, I was more than pretty sure we were well and truly lost. Shina insisted she knew where she was going, but everything looked exactly the same to me. I was cursing myself for not having the forethought to bring along some damn breadcrumbs.

“We have been wandering aimlessly for hours now. Tell me, do you intend to keep up this charade until we all collapse from exhaustion and the wolves feast upon our bones?” Morrigan asked as she regarded Shina with a devastating glare. Yikes, that was… dark. Even for Morrigan.

“There is no charade, I assure you. We are exactly where we are meant to be.” Shina chimed in coolly before turning her attention back to Zev.

Case, meet point. Right at that exact moment was when we heard a completely foreign sound. Our ears had grown accustomed to the rustling of leaves, the crunch of grass, the hum of insects and chirping of birds (much to Shale’s dismay). _This_ sound stuck out like a sore thumb, low and throaty and desperate, laden with excruciating pain and despair.

“Please… help.” Were the first words I could make out. And that was enough for me. I rushed in the same direction as the sound’s origin as quickly as my (by now mostly working) legs would carry me.

My money was on a wounded Dalish who ventured out here all by their lonesome and found themselves in a hairy situation. (Get it? Hairy? Werewolves? ...Ugh, maybe I am spending too much time around Alistair.) So, surely you can imagine my surprise when I discovered the sound was coming not from a werewolf victim, but an actual werewolf. Yeah, I didn’t know they could talk, either. Today was turning out to be full of surprises.

The wolf was clearly wounded; its breathing labored and shallow and it was keeled over in pain. But I slowly began to draw my sword anyway. One can never be too careful round these parts.

“Be careful. The werewolves might have laid a trap for us or something. You never know.” Alistair warned the group aloud as he somehow echoed my inner monologue. D’aww he was becoming such a good leader!

“Please. I am not the mindless beast I appear to be.” The wolf’s voice quaked.

“What happened to you?” I asked softly, as though speaking at full volume would somehow intensify the creature’s agony.

“They… I am cursed, turned into this creature. The curse… it, it burns in me! I fled into the forest. The werewolves… they took me in, but I had to return! I had to! You are… human. I am… I was an elf, one of the Dalish folk. Do you know of my clan?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Your Keeper, Zathrian, sent us.”

“The Keeper sent you? Then… you seek Witherfang.”  

“Yes, we do. Have you seen him? Please, this is of the utmost importance.” I explained.

“I have, but it is not what you think. There is no time to explain. You must listen...”

Why oh why is there never any time for a girl to get a decent explanation in Thedas? Is there a rule written somewhere that all conversations have to go like this? “Here is some information about <insert amazing and completely unbelievable thing>!” “Fascinating, could you tell me more?” “Nope! And fuck you very much for even asking.” GRRR!

“My name is Danyla. My husband… he is called Athras. Please, you must… bring him a message.” The creature was struggling to get the words out, even more so than when we’d first met only minutes ago. Her condition seemed to be rapidly declining.

...Okay, fine. I’d give her a pass on the whole “no time to explain” thing.

“Oh the poor woman, she’s in such pain.” Leliana vocalized her sympathy for the wolf. Meanwhile, I waited for the bell to ring in Alistair’s head.

“Oh, Danyla! We met Athras, just yesterday actually. I… I promised him we’d find you.”

Ding ding ding!

“The scarf I wear. Bring it to him. Tell him I love him. Tell him… I am dead and with the gods. I beg you.”

I grabbed the soft red scarf she offered.

“But… but you’re not dead. We have mages with us, healers. Surely something can be done.” Alistair looked to Wynne, Shina, even Morrigan. They all just hung their heads.

“AHEM, I said, surely _something_ can be done.” Alistair repeated, louder this time.

“If I could heal this, if anyone could, do you think my clan would be in the shape it is in?” Shina retorted.

“But—” Alistair began to rebut when Danyla let out a thunderous cry.

“AHHH THE PAIN! The curse is fire in my blood. Please! End it for me! End it quickly!”

Alistair unsheathed his sword and nodded solemnly. “Very well. I will end your suffering.”

“Wait! First, we need answers.” I stayed his hand. I felt bad for her, I really did, but we still had a job to do.

“Scarlett, you can see she’s in an enormous amount of pain. I have to do this. Now.”

“But she’s our only lead!”

“PLEASE!” The wolf cried out.

Alistair gripped his sword tighter, readying a strike.

“Alistair, DON’T!” I shouted in protest, but it was too late. The blade had already hit home. The wolf gushed blood and breathed her last breaths, a calm overtaking her.

“Gods… bless you…” were Danyla’s dying words.  

I stood there for a moment, studying the now lifeless corpse of our best chance at finishing this blasted crusade. And the more I stared, the angrier I became.

“Alistair, a word please.” I grabbed him by the arm hard and practically dragged him away from the others.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say…” He began as I forcibly let him go.

“Really? Because I have a few choice words in mind that are not typically even in _my_ extensive vocabulary.” I tried to stay my anger by pacing back and forth a bit, but it wasn’t working out. Something about these woods seemed to have a way of heightening your rage.

He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. He was starting to get angry now, too. Swell.

“Well, it was your decision for me to take the lead on this, remember?”

“Yes, I remember quite well. And you should know by now that being a good leader means making difficult decisions.”

“I do know that! And that’s exactly what I did. I made a tough decision. I decided that ending that woman’s suffering was more important than whatever tidbit of information we might have been able to squeeze out of her between her cries of pain.”

“But—”

“And if you really want me to lead this thing, I’d like to remind you that it definitely does me no favors when you second-guess me. Me leading is NOT the same thing as me doing what you say all the time. You can have a king or you can have a disciple. You can’t have both. Now, are we done here?”

I blinked a couple times between staring at him with wide eyes. After a few seconds his anger softened and a smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth before he brushed his lips softly against mine.

“I’ll take that stunned silence as a yes.” He whispered as his smile widened. “Come on. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

…

And so we pressed on, no landmarks to speak of, just green green green as far as the eye could see. Oh, and more run-ins with things that wanted to bring about our collective untimely demise. It was getting old fast; we were seemingly getting nowhere and everyone was getting more and more grumpy with each step we took. By now we knew how to press each other’s buttons quite well; we knew just where to poke and prod to get each other’s blood boiling. It was not helping matters.

“That is it. Shove over. I am going to lead us out of here. I cannot take one more minute of those two chattering incessantly in those vexatious accents. I would sooner be rendered deaf.”

Zev and Shina ignored Morrigan’s tirade completely as she stormed her way through the rest of the group to reach the front. Alistair and myself gladly let her through; I never was a huge fan of walking in front of everyone anyway. Morrigan was more than welcome to relieve Alistair and me of the burden. She walked with purpose, all but stomping the dirt beneath her feet with each step she took, arms stock still at her sides, her hands balled into small fists.

She made it, oh, about ten steps before a root took hold of her boot and caused her to fall flat on her face into a puddle. The witch’s clothes were positively drenched. She pushed herself up on her arms before letting out an aggravated growl that would rival that of the werewolves themselves.

Alistair laughed at her misfortune immediately, of course. I stared daggers at him before jogging up to help her.

“Here.” I offered my hand down to her which, to my absolute surprise, she took as she got back up to her feet.

“Thank you.” She offered in a barely audible grumble.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

She ignored the question as she tried to brush the water and dirt off with her hands. “I wish to be gone from this wretched place.”

Alistair soon caught up to us. I pulled his handkerchief from its usual hiding spot on his person and offered it to Morrigan to aid her in the cleanup.

“Hey!” Alistair protested. I just shot him a look that said “NOT. NOW.” He thankfully took the hint. Something was bothering Morrigan. I know what you’re thinking: “How can you tell with one such as her miserable ilk?” Well, the truth is, despite her rather prickly demeanor, we’d grown pretty close. I’d come to know the difference between Morrigan’s usual snyde self and… whatever this was. I didn’t want to press her, but something was definitely brewing. Couldn’t wait for whatever it was to boil over. That’s always a grand old time.

Morrigan took the handkerchief and began wiping herself down, her wet shirt clinging scantily to her damp skin. Sigh. Only Morrigan could take a spill like that and somehow look even _more_ desirable afterward. It hardly seems fair.

I even noticed Alistair’s eye fall on her for the briefest of moments. And ya know what? I couldn’t blame him one bit.

“Have a care where your eyes linger, Alistair.” Morrigan warned as she continued moving the cloth over her shapely form.

Oof. Busted.

But Alistair actually didn’t even blush. Super strange. When Wynne caught him ogling my… um… assets from time to time, he turned bright red almost immediately.

“Yes, well, don’t worry. It’s not what you think.” He said it casually, not a hint of defensiveness. Huh… maybe the boy was actually telling the truth. Maybe they’d hated each other for so long that he couldn’t even see her in that way anymore.

“I see.”

“I was looking at your nose.” He clarified.

“And what is it about my nose that captivates you so?” Morrigan posed.

“I was just thinking that it looks exactly like your mother’s.”

Yeeeeaaaaah, so, those buttons I mentioned earlier? Alistair basically just slammed down full force on Morrigan’s biggest one—Flemeth. Wonderful.

Morrigan balled the now-drenched and filthy handkerchief up and threw it right in Alistair’s face as she uttered between gritted teeth: “I hate you so much.”

“...What?”

“Look!” I pointed ahead to what looked to be a waterfall off in the distance. “We haven’t seen that before. That’s gotta be a good sign, right?!” I said it as optimistically as I could, desperately trying to get a handle on the escalating tension.

“Yes.” Shina confirmed. “Let us head for the falls.”

And head to the falls we did. I found myself moving at a slightly quicker pace, energized by the prospect of finally getting somewhere. And the closer I got, the more breathtaking the sight became. The sound of the rushing water pelting against the rocks below, the rainbow reflection painting the nearby air, the sun’s rays making every drop shine and glisten, the cool mist tickling my skin. It was enough to make you forget, at least for a moment, that the world was ending.

“It’s beautiful.” I whispered to no one in particular as I looked up at the falls’ impossible size, their unyielding power.

“You’re beautiful.” Alistair whispered in my ear as he snuck up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist, also admiring the view. It brought a smile to my face before I rested my arms over his, craning my neck to give him a quick kiss.

“Spiders as big as a house, bears tryin’ to bite your head off, and cursed werewolves lurkin’ around every corner, yet here you two are bein’ all lovey-dovey. You sure got a funny idea of romantic.” Oghren interrupted once the others caught up to us, ruining our stolen moment.

I sighed and hung my head. The bubble had burst. “And _you_ have an impeccable knack for ruining things.” I chided the dwarf.

“Yeah!” Alistair seconded, sticking his tongue out at Oghren tauntingly. “Ruiner!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Oghren grinned, clearly pleased with himself for reasons that completely eluded me.

“It _is_ a bad thing.” Alistair countered.

“Forgive the intrusion, but it would appear a MUCH worse thing is headed our way.” Zevran interjected. “More wolves, dead ahead.”

“Welp, you got the dead part right.” Oghren quipped as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his ax, the bloodlust twinkling in his azure eyes.

I immediately broke free of Alistair’s arms and drew my sword as well. The others followed suit—that is, everyone but Alistair, though he did have his hand lingering over his pommel.

“Um… what are you doing?” I asked as I bent my knees and assumed my best defensive fighting stance.

“You wanted information, right?” Alistair asked.

“Well… yes, but—”

“Then let’s try to get some.” Alistair stepped in front of the group, sword still sheathed, as the werewolves trampled across the wooden bridge to meet us. The one who appeared to be the leader got so close to Alistair’s face that he must have been able to smell the creature’s foul breath; the sour grimace he was trying to hide said it all.

“The Watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters. Another of the Dalish come to put us in our place, come to make us pay for our attack.”

“Uh, no. That’s actually not why we’re here. We’re actually—”

“We do not care why you are here!” The wolf growled. “You intrude on our forest and you are not welcome, human.”

“...Right, okay. Let’s start again. I’m Alistair. Hi. And what do they call you?”

“You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. Turn back now! Go back to the Dalish and tell them you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered for too long. We will watch them pay!”

Alistair stole a glance over his shoulder at me, though whether it was for guidance or approval, I wasn’t sure. I just gave him a nod, which I hoped signaled him to keep at it.

“Look…” He began as he raised both hands in the air to show he wasn’t armed, “I mean you no harm. Really. I just want to talk to you. Will you let me do that?”

The wolf snarled, but ultimately caved.

“Was it not Zathrian who sent you? He wishes only our destruction, never to talk.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a new kid in town.” Alistair explained.

“What?!” The wolf snapped back. Apparently werewolves weren’t much for idioms.

“Er, I mean, uh, we’re just trying to get information. About Witherfang, if you want to get specific about it.”

“Witherfang is the first and the eldest. This forest is his home, and you will never see him, if you are lucky.”

“Well, we’d like to talk with him. Just as we’re talking with you now. Could we do that maybe?” Alistair asked sweetly. Alas, the werewolves seemed completely immune to his boyish charms.

“I know why you seek him and it is not to speak! We are done speaking!” Boy, that escalated quickly. Swiftrunner was getting PISSED. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Werewolves aren’t exactly known for their temperance.

“But—”

“Run from the forest while you can. Run to the Dalish and tell them they are doomed.” Swiftrunner commanded once he regained his calm.

“Look, I do not want to fight you. I mean that. But we can’t go back. We’ve come too far.” Alistair argued.

“I do not wish to fight you, either, but we cannot trust you.” The wolf paused for a beat before straightening up and addressing his comrades once again. “Come, brothers and sisters. Let us retreat. The forest has eyes of its own and it will deal with intruders as it always has.”

“Well, that went well.” I offered as I placed a hand on Alistair’s now-slumped shoulder once they were out of earshot.

“Your sarcasm, darling, is duly noted and appreciated.”

“Actually, for once, I wasn’t being sarcastic. We had a conversation. We learned a few things. The exchange didn’t end with a huge set of fangs wrapped around my leg. All in all, not bad.” I gave him a sincere smile.

“Yeah I… I guess it could’ve gone worse, when you put it that way.” Alistair smiled back, starting to regain his confidence again. I gave him a kiss on his blushed cheek.

“Tis true, my friend. You handled that delicate situation with great aplomb.” Zev complimented. Alistair gave him a nod of thanks.  

“Yes yes, despite Alistair’s supreme idiocy we have once again somehow averted disaster. Shall we pause to throw him a parade, or shall we press on?” Morrigan rested her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.

“This way.” Shina pointed to the east. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

…

Hours went by with no indication from our guide that the direction we pursued was the correct one. Whenever one of us would look back with a questioning expression, she would simply pause her conversation with Zevran, make a slight gesture with her hand, and say “Forward.”

It was infuriating.

I admit, after enough time had passed I was beginning to agree with Morrigan. I was about two seconds away from giving Shina a piece of my mind for steering us wrong when, by some miracle, the outline of another person—not a wolf or a bear or a darkspawn or a murdering tree, but an actual, real live person—came into view.

“It… it can’t be.” Wynne whispered as she drew closer to the stranger. “It’s not possible.”

“You… know this man?” I asked. She ignored me, her eyes fixated on the ginger elf that was becoming clearer with each step we took.

“Friends, turn back, please. These woods are a danger to those who do not know the paths.” The elf greeted (if you wanna call that a greeting).

“...Aneirin?” Wynne asked as her eyes simultaneously lit up and began to fill with tears.

“I… I remember your face. But younger, more impulsive. Stern. Wynne?” The elf asked as his brows raised in disbelief.

“I thought they had killed you.”

“They very nearly did. The templars found me while I was searching for the Dalish. They ran me through and left me for dead.”

In a very uncharacteristic move, Wynne dropped to her knees and took the elf’s hands in hers. “I brought this on you. I… I was a dreadful mentor. Harsh and impatient… I… I am sorry for the way I treated you.”

Aneirin squeezed her hand before pulling the old woman back up to her feet. “I’ve put that behind me, and you should, too.” He explained gently. “I didn’t fit in with the templars and your chantry. My path lay elsewhere.”

“Irving is a reasonable man. He will find some way for you to return.”

“When will you learn, old woman? Not all mages find redemption or peace within the walls of your precious Circle.” Morrigan spat.

“The Circle needs new blood. It needs to change.” Wynne shot back.

“I have fond memories of Irving. He was always kind to me. I will consider your proposal, and perhaps I will speak with Irving.” Wynne gave her former student a wide, grateful smile. “However, I promise nothing. Now, it is getting late and you have much to do. You should be on your way.”

Wynne nodded. “Very well. I am so glad I got to see you, Aneirin.” The mage gave the elf a quick hug goodbye. “May your gods smile on you.”

“And on you.” Aneirin gave the rest of us a parting nod as he walked away. Most of us returned it as we began walking in the opposite direction.

“How did you do that?” Wynne asked as she turned her attention to Shina.

“... Do what?” Shina looked completely lost.

“The person you said you wanted us to meet. It was Aneirin you meant, wasn’t it? How did you know he’d be here?”

“Oh. I… have my ways,” was Shina’s non-answer.

“But—”

“I know we are all tired, but your story about Aneirin moved me so. I just had to make time for a little side trip, especially now that I’m reunited with my Zevran. Second chances can be so rare but so important.” Shina explained further… kinda. It still made me quirk my brow. Something wasn’t adding up here. However, before I could really mull it over, Morrigan had another outburst and let out a resentful snarl before storming off. Again.

“What’s got her panties in a twist?” Oghren asked. I rolled my eyes at the dwarf before electing to follow her.

“Stay put. I won’t be long.” I explained to the group.

...

I found Morrigan leaning against the trunk of a large tree, taking it upon herself to singe its fallen leaves one by one.

“You really shouldn’t burn those, Morrigan. It’s not like they grow on trees… Oh wait…” I joked to try and lighten the mood.

“I would set the whole bloody thing aflame were I not so exhausted.” She groaned as she slid down the length of the trunk to sit in the dirt, not bothering to look up at me as I approached.

I sighed. “I know the feeling. May I join you?”

“I would rather be left—”

“Great, thanks.” I interrupted as I sat down beside her and leaned my back against the tree as well. She let it go.

Trying to console Morrigan is… tricky, I’ve come to learn. You can’t just out and out ask what’s wrong. She’ll close up immediately, like a door being slammed shut right in your face. The best thing to do when she’s like this is to just sit and wait. She knew I was sitting beside her now for no reason other than because I cared. I didn’t have to spell it out. And because of this unspoken concern, she’d open up when she felt ready. She always did.

“Just look at this miserable place…” she scoffed as she gestured around us. “I thought we had left the Wilds behind for good.”

“The Korcari Wilds are far away from here.” I explained.

“It does not feel that way. These trees… they are suffocating me.”

“I don’t think that’s how trees work…”

“Not literally, Scarlett. Do try and keep up.”

“So you’re feeling homesick, is that it?” I asked, making a mental note to abandon all attempts at humor going forward.

“All this talk of reunions, of righting past wrongs, of second chances. Tis utterly useless to dwell on things we cannot change. Flemeth had to die. There was no way around that. And she will be back. One day, I have no doubt of that. And I will track her down in whatever body she inhabits and she will die again, and again, and again if need be. And yet… I cannot help but feel…” She let out an exasperated groan before shaking her head. “I do not understand it. How can one miss a home they know no longer exists?”

“I do it every day. I saw my family die. I saw my home reduced to ash and rubble right before my eyes. Yet I still long for them, for that place, with every fiber of my being.”

“Such sentimentality is a weakness, you realize.” Morrigan countered.

“Such sentimentality keeps me human, Morrigan.”

The mage gave me a puzzled look.

“With everything I’ve done, with everything I’m still going to have to do in the days ahead, it is emotion, my connection and even attachment to others, that keep me grounded. If I ever lost sight of the things that truly matter, I think the horrors we’ve faced would have eaten me alive by now. Maybe caring is a weakness, but it keeps me going.”

“You are a fool, Scarlett Cousland.” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. “But you are a fool who has saved my life. Time and time again. No one has ever…” She let the sentence drift off.

“It’s okay, Morrigan. Really.” I offered softly.

“No, no it is not. You protected me from Flemeth with no hope of reward and I could not save you when it mattered. You, the one person I’ve left to care for in this miserable world.”

“You  _did_ save me. Without your quick thinking I would still be bound up in that web, unable to move or speak. Or worse.”

“But the job was left half done. Twas Zevran who truly restored you.”

“Morrigan—”

“Ugh, it matters not. Would you listen to this drivel? This… overblown sense of dependency? I abhor it.” The mage interrupted.

“It’s called friendship.” I smirked. “You look out for me. I look out for you. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but when push comes to shove, I’m here for you, Morrigan. You can always rely on me when it really matters. I hope you know that.”

“I… you should not be so…” She stammered before she finally found the nerve to meet my eyes and there it was. The facade had begun to crack once again, the rough exterior giving way to raw emotion, tears barely beginning to form around her luminescent orbs before she blinked to drive them back. “You have no idea what will happen in days to come to make such promises.”

“Well, as luck would have it, my friendship isn’t conditional.” I smiled gently.

And then, in one fluid motion almost quick as a blink, she stood up and wiped her clothes to get rid of the dirt they’d collected. The facade once again firmly in place.

“Let us go. There is much to be done before… there is still much to be done.” She offered me her hand this time, which I took as I hopped back up to my feet.

…

It wasn’t long after Morrigan’s and my little heart to heart that the sun began to set. And despite the fact that we’d literally been making our way through the forest ALLLLLL fucking day, somehow, it felt as though we’d made absolutely no progress. We’d seen no sign of Witherfang. We’d found nothing to cure the Dalish of this damned curse. We were no closer to securing our treaty. It was… discouraging, to put it mildly.

“You look tired, Scarlett.” Shina noticed as we trudged on, the lot of us determined to use every shred of remaining daylight.

“Gee, ya think?” I snapped.

“No need to get nasty.”

“Sorry. I just… I think we all need some rest. Today has been… very, very long.”

“I know just the place. Follow me.”

“We _have_ been following you. For the better part of a day now.” I griped.

“Ah, but this place is right around this bend. And it is simply to _die_ for.” Shina grinned.

The elf led us to a little seemingly unoccupied campsite, all set up and ripe for the taking.

“How odd. A camp with no campers, complete with fire and warm blankets. Rather inviting, would you not say?” Morrigan posed.

“More suspicious than inviting…” I argued.

Alistair took it upon himself to investigate. The firepit was still smoking, the embers clinging to life whenever the wind picked up. “Now this is peculiar...” He observed. “Whoever this belonged to must have just recently abandoned it. We should be careful.”

“Shina… who…” I tried to finish the thought, but it was suddenly damn near impossible to keep my eyes open. I shook my head and blinked a few times to wake myself up.

“Oh, but you look exhausted, my dear.” Shina observed as she gestured to the warm, inviting bedroll on the ground near her feet. “Won’t you lie down?”

Zevran was the first to succumb to her invitation. “These bedrolls are... mmmm... do you feel that? Like a cloud is settling over my head. To think, I usually pay good coin to get this kind of sensation…”

Leliana went down next, followed by Oghren.

“Ah, perhaps you would like a little… privacy. Look here, the perfect place for you and your handsome prince.” Shina held open a flap to the only tent in the small site, and against my better judgment, something compelled me to look inside.

“Don’t... go in there. Can’t you feel the... power? Something is dreadfully wrong here…” Morrigan warned.

“Agreed. Strong magic is at work here. It is not wise to enter the tent.” Shale cautioned.

“Right, yes. Let’s… let’s leave.” I said the words aloud, but I seemed absolutely powerless to follow through on them. My feet felt as though they were made of lead, my head was reeling, my eyelids impossibly heavy.

The last thing I remember seeing was Shina’s knowing smile as she whispered, “Sleep well, my beautiful Scarlett. Oh, and by the by, the Red Queen sends her regards.”

Then, everything went dark.


	53. Poetic Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the face of Shina's betrayal, something is awakened in Scarlett that she's never experienced before. Zevran, however, is having a tough time accepting the facts. Meanwhile, the gang finds a new friend in high places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter. It comes complete with anger, sarcasm, a few laughs, and even a little romance. Your comments and kudos are always VERY appreciated. Thank you!

I can’t really tell you what happened next. It was the strangest thing. I’m not quite sure how to describe it. You know that feeling you get when you’re not sure if you’re awake or if you’re still dreaming? That’s basically what it was like. I was stuck in the in-between, hovering on the cusp of oblivion, barely existing within the thin line that exists only to separate life from death. I don’t know how long I was there. I don’t know who was there with me. All I can say is that I very well may have died that day, and somehow, some way, Wynne brought me back.

I awoke gasping for air, frantically searching my surroundings with flooded eyes, though what I was searching for I couldn’t tell you. I think I was just supremely disoriented and sought the mild comfort of anything even remotely familiar. Much to my relief I saw my companions weren’t any worse for wear. They were just curled up in little balls, sleeping like babes and dead to the world. Alistair’s fingers were searching for my hair to twirl, but as it was out of reach, his fingers opted to twirl the air instead. Maker’s breath, he’s adorable. Gah! Focus, Scarlett. I looked around once more at my comatose compatriots. No blood anywhere. Tummies steadily rising and falling with each even breath they took. Peachy. Everything seemed to be A-OK.

And then it dawned on me. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… We were missing someone. Wynne. Where in the Maker’s name was Wynne?! I went back to surveying the area as quickly as my enfeebled body would allow, which was roughly the speed to a geriatric tortoise. My search came to an abrupt halt, however, once the demon came into view.

I tried to reach for my sword, to snap my brain out of whatever fugue state it was forced into. But as the demon grew closer to me, it was as though it were draining my very life force. Somehow just being near the thing was weakening me to the point of utter exhaustion. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone wield a weapon. Oh good. That bodes well.

Luckily, right when I was about to give up hope, Wynne stepped into view. She was seemingly aware of her surroundings and able to move freely—unlike the rest of us. As such, she opted to take on the creature on alone. And I just sat there, helpless to do anything but watch.

My mind wasn’t running on all cylinders just yet, but as I studied at the creature’s grotesque, misshapen form, I wasn’t afraid—not really. I guess when you deal with unimaginable horrors almost nonstop, the shock value can really wane. All I saw when I looked at that ugly son of a bitch was a puppet. And though I was struggling to remember every little misstep that led us to this moment, I did manage to get a very clear image of who was pulling the strings.

Shina.

 _How?_ was my first thought. But that didn’t take too long to figure out, even in my only semi-lucid condition. During our travels, we’d encountered instances of maleficar summoning demons. I couldn’t begin to guess how they do it, but if Avernus and Shale’s former master were to be believed, it was definitely possible. Shina must be a blood mage.

And then, naturally, the big question followed: _Why?_

My mind raced, flipping through images of a forgotten past like some half-finished picture book, trying desperately to form a complete depiction of what had happened as Wynne dealt blow after magical blow at the demon. The mage seemed completely immune somehow to her adversary’s draining effects. Try as the Shade might, it just couldn’t get the drop on her—especially now that Wynne had figured out how to call on help from her… uh… “spirit friend,” when necessary. This was one such occasion.

So I kept sitting on the ground like a lump, trying to focus on every sordid detail that brought us to this lowly state. It was all I could do, really. Moving so much as an inch felt like running a mile. What is it with this accursed place and its affinity for paralyzing people?! Geez!

I concentrated so hard my head felt like it would split in two. Then things started, ever so slowly, to come back to me. I remembered Shina leading us here. I remembered Zevran and Leliana being among the first to fall prey to the demon’s illusion. Then I remembered Shina saying something before I also went down…

… What was it?! Come on, Scarlett! What were all those lateral thinking puzzles good for if you let this stupid demon turn your brain to mush?!

She had given me some piece of information. Some IMPORTANT information. The name of the one who had sent her after us. Think! Think! THINK!

It was on the tip of my tongue when I felt a familiar hand squeeze my thigh. Alistair! He must have crawled over to me while I was lost in that train of thought. The boy’s strength was damn impressive—doing so much as blinking right now tuckered me out. He looked up to meet my eyes before the exhaustion overtook him again, his mother’s necklace slipping out of his armor as he collapsed at my side, no longer able to keep himself up on all fours.

I studied the amulet in attempt to focus my mind, following the lines of its mended cracks and worn, smooth shape. Then I got to thinking about where I found it. And who repaired it. And why it was shattered in the first place.

And then the dam broke. The memory came flooding back with a vengeance. And that vengeance, for one shining moment, breathed new life into my dormant soul. I curled my fingers around the pommel of my sword, and this time it didn’t feel heavy or unwieldy. This time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—like a pure extension of my very being.

I got to my feet, every inch of my body singing with new energy, powered by nothing but rage and revenge. I drew closer to the demon, all but ignoring Wynne’s attacks that somehow kept missing me, and I began to wail on that thing like there was no tomorrow. I stabbed and I thrusted and I sliced and I kicked and I punched and I roared and rampaged. All sorts of things were running through my mind as I felt the juicy satisfaction of my sword repeatedly sinking into flesh—or something like it. Isolde’s smug, mousey little face sitting pretty in Denerim, Loghain with sunken eyes and bloodied hands occupying the throne at her side, Rendon Howe lurking in the nearby shadows, spreading his treachery like a plague. Oh, it was all coming together alright. A veritable triumvirate of avarice, ambition, and annihilation. And Maker as my witness, whatever the cost, I would be their end.

“Scarlett!” Wynne shrieked. At least, I think she did. I barely heard her. I could hardly focus on anything but fighting.

“SCARLETT!” I heard my companions cry out in unison as I felt a pair of arms wrap around my body and pull me back. I struggled to break free and succeeded with a thunderous cry as I went back to the task at hand. Nothing mattered. Nothing but killing that fucking demon.

“Outta the way. I’ll handle this.” was all I heard someone say in a gruff voice before the contents of an entire bucket of water were hurled at my face.

I gasped at the shock of the cold water against my skin, my eyes blinking wildly as I slowly came to realize what was going on.

The demon was dead. It had been dead for some time now. I was just too blinded by my anger to realize it.

“Only one sure way I know of to snap a berserker out of a trance like that. Water’ll cool down that fire. At least, most of the time.” Oghren explained.

“What… what did you call me?” I asked as I wiped the beads of water from my eyelashes and wrung out my hair.

“A berserker. I’ve never seen one who isn’t a dwarf, but I’ll be damned if you ain’t one.”

“What does that mean?” I gave the dwarf a puzzled look.

“It’s pretty simple. Berserkers use their anger to give themselves an edge in battle. And from what I just saw, you’re a natural, girly.”

“Did you see what just happened? I’d say she did more than give herself ‘an edge.’ We were all lying there helpless from that demon’s spell and she just shrugged it off like it was nothing. How is that even possible?” Alistair inquired.

“Uh, how do I explain this…. er… have you ever heard the tales of people doin’, ya know, crazy things sometimes?”

“You mean like a dwarf getting piss drunk, completely stripping off his clothes, and thrusting his pelvis while shouting, ‘Who wants to slay this dragon?’”

“Don’t be ridiculous, boy! Someone would have to be outta their nug-lickin’ skull to—”

“Yeaaaah, that was you, Oghren. Just last week.” Alistair countered.

“Huh… really? Did anyone take me up on it?” The dwarf looked around hopefully. Alistair facepalmed.

“Focus, Oghren!” I chided.

“Right right. No, not that kinda crazy. Uhh, let’s say someone’s about tumble off a cliff, and another person catches ‘em and somehow lifts ‘em to safety with just one arm. Any other time, they wouldn’t be able to do that—the dead weight would make them fall, too. But because of the uh, _extreme_ circumstances, they can tap into strength they didn’t know they had. That’s a berserker—they just latch onto their rage and channel it so it becomes something useful. And sometimes, they can do some pretty extraordinary things.”

“Like killing an incredibly powerful demon single-handedly?” Alistair posed.

“Hey! Not true!” I interjected. “Wynne was the real star of the show. She saved our lives. I just finished the job.”

“I was wearing it down, yes, but what you did, Scarlett… Maker have mercy. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Wynne stared at me in what I could only guess was some combination of fear and awe.

I tried to set my eyes on what remained of the demon, but it had dissipated into smoke before I could really get a look at the damage I’d done. But I did know one thing for certain: For a minute there, I lost myself. Reality went bye-bye. I didn’t know my companions had awoken. I didn’t know my target had been eliminated. I knew nothing but KILL KILL KILL. And that scared the shit out of me.

“How much do you know of this, Oghren?” I asked.

“Well, I’m a berserker myself, so…”

“Can you… teach me how to control it?” I requested meekly.

“What was that?” The dwarf stuck a finger in his ear, wiggled it about, pulled out some wax and, of course, ate it. “Sorry, the air on the surface must be wreakin’ havoc on ol’ Oghren’s hearing. It sounded like you were askin’ for my help.”

Ugh, I knew he’d be like this. But I was desperate. I had to learn how to control my anger, or it was sure as shit going to control me.

“I am. Oghren, will you help me?” I beseeched the dwarf in earnest.

“Hmm… not sure. Didn’t hear a please.”

“Please.”

“Pretty please? With a flagon of ale on top?” The dwarf taunted.

“Grrrrr. You know what? Forget it.”

“Hey hey hey. I’m just messin’ about. Course I’ll help ya.” The dwarf slapped me hard on the buttocks, earning an immediate retaliatory slap upside the head from Alistair. Good. Saved me from having to do it.

“Well, I am glad we are all alive and well, though I do wonder where Shina disappeared to. She was our guide, was she not?” Zevran looked around for his lost pseudo-mother, giving no inclination whatsoever that he knew of her treachery.

“Zev? You… you know she was the one who led us here, right?” I asked carefully.

“Of course, but I am sure she did not mean for us to come to any harm. How could she know what awaited us?” The elf countered.

“Oh, she knew exactly what awaited us. And that is precisely _why_ she led us here. Take it from one who knows a thing or two about deceitful mother figures. She wished us all to perish by that demon’s hands. I guarantee it.” Morrigan chimed in.

“Nonsense! That woman is kind. And gentle. And nurturing. In other words, Shina is everything _you_ are not.” Zevran insisted bitterly.

Morrigan stared daggers a the Antivan, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of an argument.

“I… I think you were already asleep when she said it, Zev, but... Shina is working for Isolde.” I explained.

The elf shook his head violently. “No. No I do not believe it. Why would she save me from the wolves only to later throw me to them?”

“To gain your trust. And the trust of all of us.” Leliana answered reluctantly as she placed a consoling hand on Zev’s shoulder. “I am sorry, Zevran, but I am very familiar with the art of deception. It is a dance I know well. I believe Scarlett is right. Shina knew what she was doing when she led us here.”

“Oh, is that so? My my my, how quickly the ‘Maker’s miracles’ become traitorous plots. Tell me, do you truly believe the bullshit you spew, or is it merely for your entertainment that you subject the rest of us to it?” Zevran remarked coldly.

Leliana removed her hand from the elf’s body as quickly as she could, as though it had been lingering over a hot stove. And if looks could kill, Zevran would be dead as a doornail.

“Okay, let’s just stop right now before things turn ugly. Er... uglier. When we find Shina we can get to the bottom of this once and for all.” Alistair reasoned.

The elf nodded to himself, a new determination filling his umber eyes. “Not if I find her first.”

And with that, quick as a flash, the elf took off, his lithe form quickly disappearing among the dense grass and thick foliage of the night.

Leliana let out a frustrated groan. “GRRR. How could he be so foolish? So cruel? The Zevran I’ve come to know would never—”

“There’s your answer. He’s not the Zevran you know.” I explained.

“You’ve lost me.”

“Shina is a blood mage who summoned a demon to attack us. No small feat. I don’t think it’s too much of a leap to think she may also have the ability to bewitch Zevran somehow.” I reasoned.

“He… he has been acting a bit strange since she rescued him. The entire time we’ve been in these woods he’s followed her around like a lost puppy. It’s all very… un-Zevran.” Leliana assented.

I closed my eyes and began rubbing my temples. “Ugh, this is getting more and more complicated by the minute.”

“Should we go after him?” The bard asked.

“To be clear, you are asking whether we should chase the spellbound assassin who was almost immediately engulfed by the dark of the wood in a place where we only just narrowly escaped our deaths moments ago? Is that right? Tell me, have you considered the possibility that when your precious Maker was giving out brains, you lingered last in line?” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“She’s right, Leliana. Er, not the insulting bit, but the other bit.” Nice save, Scarlett. “No way can we find Zev in these surroundings; especially now that he doesn’t want to be found. We’ll just have to hope that he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Yes, well, it’s a sad state of affairs indeed when it is left to me to be the voice of reason, but as night has fallen, don’t squishy flesh creatures require shelter of some kind lest they fall prey to superior organisms with bigger teeth?” Shale posed.

“The golem raises a good point. We need protection while we sleep and the thin walls of our tents will offer little security against the elements out here.” Wynne added.

“Okay, I guess we should look around to see if there’s a cave or something. Just… don’t stray too far from the group.” I warned.

“We have been meandering about these woods all day. You know as well as I that there is no bloody cave.” Morrigan groaned.

“Fine. What do you suggest?”

“I did not offer a suggestion. Merely an observation.”

“Convenient.” I sighed before hanging my head in defeat.

“What about that?” Alistair offered.

“...What?” I asked as I raised my head and looked around to see fuck all.

 _“That!”_ Alistair pointed to a not-so-distant tree that easily dwarfed all the others within the vicinity.

“... I don’t follow.”

“We climb it and sleep in the branches. I mean, look at the size of that thing! Being that high off the ground will likely protect us from… whatever unpleasantness might cross our path. Unless someone else has got a better idea…”

Everyone looked around nonchalantly, as though they were students trying to avoid being called on by their tutor. Ugh, climbing an enormous tree in the dark so did not sound like fun, but what choice did we have? Morrigan was right; we’d combed nearly every inch of this area of the forest and there was nothing in the way of shelter to be found. As much as I hated to admit it, this was likely our best option.

“Well, it seems having your head in the clouds all the time has finally paid off, young man.” Wynne joked.

“Had to happen sometime.” Alistair winked. “Come on.”

Alistair grabbed my hand and led the group to the massive oak. It didn’t attack us on sight, so I assumed this was just your average, everyday tree—not one of the homicidal ones we’d encountered so much of recently. Alistair dropped his supplies at the base of it and began to climb. Once he had a firm grasp, he offered his hand down to me. I hesitated to take it.

“Come on, it’s not so bad once you’re up here, I promise.”

“I’ve not had the greatest experience with trees, of late.” I grimaced as I finished taking my armor off.

“Strange, I seem to have exceedingly fond memories of the last tree you and I were in together.” Alistair smirked.

Aaaaand my frown turned immediately upside down when I thought of that first night we spent together. Damnit. Why did he always insist on making me smile when I was perfectly content to be miserable?

“Touche.” I grabbed his hand and, not without difficulty, managed to climb the damn thing. Once we were up, the others followed suit, save for Shale and Meatball who would stay on the ground and keep watch, bless their hearts.

We found an especially wide section of a massive limb extending from the tree’s crown and nestled in as best we could, Alistair’s back resting against the trunk and my back resting against his chest and stomach. It wasn’t perfect, but so long as it kept the dangers of the forest at bay, I was content enough.

Alistair gave me a warm hug and unfurled the blanket he’d brought up with him. “Hmm… you seem a bit tense, my dear.” He noticed.

“Tense? Why in the world should I be tense? It’s not like we’ve made virtually no progress in finding Witherfang. Or that we’ve uncovered a nefarious plot set in motion by one of our innumerable enemies to have us all killed. Or that one of our own has disappeared into the night because he’s under a blood mage’s spell. Or—”

“Is there anything we can do about all of that right now?”

“Well, not really, but—”

“Then you really need to use this time to unwind a bit, Scarlett. We’ll handle this. Just like we’ve handled every other blasted thing that’s come our way.” He kissed my head and took a deep breath in as I leaned fully back against his body in an attempt to follow his advice. “You smell so wonderful. How do you do that?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the abrupt change in subject. “You are such a liar. There is no possible way you could mean that.”

We’d been wandering aimlessly around the dirty forest for hours. Although a bath wasn’t number one on the priority list, I was well aware that I needed one. We all did.

“Bah! You wound me, my lady. I do mean it. You smell really, really good.”

“Yeah, I’ve often heard the way to a man’s heart isn’t sweet perfume, but the pungent scent of dirt, sweat, and blood.”

He chuckled brightly. “What can I say? Underneath it all, you still smell like… _you._ And that scent is... intoxicating.” Alistair began planting gentle kisses along my neck as I felt his fingers begin tickling my sides ever so lightly.

Oh, I so knew where this was going.

“Alistair! No!” I whispered as forcefully as I could as I felt his fingers make their way under my shirt, his tickles becoming more deliberate, making me giggle despite myself.

“You made me leader, remember? You don’t get to tell me no. It’s not part of the arrangement.” Alistair jested as he held me tighter, his tickles becoming more merciless, making me convulse and contort and almost lose my balance. I gasped in terror as I felt myself begin to succumb to gravity. Alistair steadied me and prevented my fall out of our spot in the tree. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might pop out of my chest as I heard the ex-warden begin laughing to himself.

“Relax, Scarlett. You should know by now that I’ll always be here to catch you.” He smiled smugly before he gave the flesh of my hips a playful squeeze.

“I think this whole being a leader thing has gone to your head, young man. But let’s not forget that you’re only in charge because I’m allowing it.” I teased.

His jaw dropped in feigned offense as soon as I said it. Seizing the opportunity to test me further, he dared to dip his fingers inside the waistband of my pants and began unlacing them with his other hand.

I shook my head vehemently. “Absolutely not! We have zero privacy. None. They’re sure to hear—”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to be very, very quiet.” I felt him grin against my ear as his intrepid fingers continued to wiggle their way into my smalls. I bit my lips into a thin line to stifle the moan I felt forming in my throat as his fingertips slipped past my folds and grazed my hidden pearl.

“But—”

“Shhh.” He gently commanded into my ear as his fingers kept rolling over me, making my eyes flutter with pleasure. “You’ve been through a lot lately. Just... let go for once, hm?”

I thought about fighting it, but he felt so, so, so, _so_ good. I just nodded slowly as I melted into him, the rough pads of his fingers moving so fluidly over my now throbbing bud as I felt him begin to harden at my back. That made the experience all the sweeter—knowing he was enjoying this just as much as I was.

“Maker’s breath, I’ve missed touching you.” He breathed against my ear, and for all my tries I did let a short moan slip that time. I felt his grin return. He knows what that voice of his does to me. He started picking up the pace a little as soon as he got wind of my rising excitement. I tried to hold my breath, to stay completely silent, but somehow that only intensified the exquisite sensations he was giving me. Alistair kept drawing those maddening circles with his fingertips, each wave of pleasure they caused almost becoming overpowered by the ache in my empty core. I wanted him inside so much it hurt, but I knew that was impossible. And somehow, the fact that his sweet touch was also complete torture made the encounter all the more... exhilarating. No, Scarlett. You _will not_ be getting your way. You _will_ be denied. And you will remain at your lover’s mercy.

It was a feeling I wasn’t exactly accustomed to, but it was one I was beginning to accept, and maybe even embrace. Sometimes, Alistair would be running the show, especially if he was going to be king. And if I could go against my very controlling and stubborn nature once in awhile and simply let him, the outcome, I was beginning to learn, could often prove to be... a _very_ pleasant surprise.

I dug my fingers into the thick of Alistair’s thighs, feeling myself pulse and twitch and quiver with every small movement he made. I was close. And he knew it. He nibbled on my ear and breathed heavily into it, sending a shiver down my spine as I felt a tingling heat begin to grow and pool between my legs. I felt my every muscle tighten as my back arched, the sensations from those incessant fingers becoming almost too much to bear. Alistair seized my mouth as I went soaring over the edge, stifling any sound I might have made and devouring my release the only way he could.

As I came back down he removed his hand and wrapped me tighter in his arms, the single kiss breaking into two slow, knowing smiles.

“You know, I’m beginning to see the benefits of letting you have your way once in awhile.” I admitted as I gently rubbed my nose against his.

He sniggered at that. “I take it you approve of my, uh, leadership technique?”

“Oh, I find your methods quite… stimulating.” I smirked before giving him another soft kiss. “Thank you. For that.”

“My pleasure.” He winked. “Now get some sleep, my love. No more talk of wolves or plagues or berserkers or maleficar. Just close your eyes and rest your mind. Everything will be better in the morning.”

…

I awoke to the sound of someone singing. A baritone... no—even lower. A bass if my ears didn’t deceive me. It was a pleasant melody, cheerful and calming in its simplicity. I knew Alistair was still asleep behind me, so that ruled him out—not to mention, the boy was completely tone deaf. Oghren was snoring so loudly I was surprised he wasn’t cutting down every tree in the vicinity. Shale’s voice was deep, but she didn’t strike me as the musical type.

Okay, Scarlett, don’t panic. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

I shook Alistair awake immediately. Yeah, I admit it. That whole “don’t panic” thing wasn’t working out so well.

“Alistair!” I half-shouted, half-whispered.

“What, what is it?!” He blinked awake, searching frantically for his sword, which we’d left on the ground beneath us.

“We are _not_ alone.” I said it almost under my breath, my lips barely moving in case the mystery songster could see us somehow.

“Please forgive if thou dost not enjoy my song. But I have been here all along.” A booming voice stated matter-of-factly. My eyes widened in fear. What in the Maker’s name were we dealing with here?! (Great, now I’m rhyming, too. Fantastic.)  

“Down. Must get down. NOW.” I don’t know if it was a realization or a command or some combination of both, but despite the difficulty I’d had climbing that bloody tree, somehow I found myself quite adept at getting back down—being scared out of your wits tends to be a great motivator.

There was no time to put my ill-fitting armor back on, but I did grab my sword as soon as my feet touched the ground. The others, once they managed to join me, followed suit. I surveyed our surroundings, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice as quickly as possible. The exercise was futile. We appeared to be completely alone. And then I learned the truth—the owner of the voice was literally right there in front of us. The tree we’d chosen to sleep in was apparently sentient after all. I raised my sword and pointed it at the gargantuan oak.

“Now now, there is no need for such hostility. Let us handle this with civility.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my now-trembling sword. I know it must sound ridiculous, being terrified of a big tree. But the thing was titanic, and that deep voice quaked the very earth we were stood on. You’d probably be shaking like a leaf, too (pun intended).

“W-What are you?” I croaked.

“Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak. Sometimes Elder Tree. I trust thee slept well among my limbs. I thought it best to awaken thee gently, with a hymn.”

I lowered my sword. Probably best not to piss off the rhyming tree that could crush us all by taking a single step, right?

“We didn’t mean to trespass, honest. Had you announced yourself sooner we would never have—”

“Tis a lonely existence out here in the wood. To have such company did this great tree some good.”

I tried to think about all of this rationally. Okay, so, we now had a talking tree—a stark contrast from those other ones who attacked us on sight. This forest had rarely provided us many opportunities for gaining information, and despite everything going completely sideways, we did still have a job to do.

“You, uh, you seem a knowledgeable sort. Tell me, do you know where I can find Witherfang’s lair?” I asked. Couldn’t hurt, right?

Alistair couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head. “Only you could discover a giant talking tree in the forest and remain completely unphased. That’s my Scarlett. All business.”

“It’s a gift.” I smirked.

“In the center of the forest, the Weres do dwell. Or so go the tales my fellows tell. But they cannot be followed there. The forest doth protect the Weres.”

“Why? Why are they protected?” Alistair interjected. (I rhymed again. UGH! It’s contagious, I tell you!)

“Perhaps the Weres use magic to command the trees. All I know is they move as they please.”

“So, you’re saying there’s no way for us to find our way through this forest. Do I have that right?” I asked as I began to rub my temples to fight the headache I felt coming on. Between Shina, Zev, Isolde, and all the other loveliness this place had subjected us to, I was just about full up on my tolerance for shitty news.

“There may be a way, but there’s a price to pay. I was glad to be thine shelter for the night. But a debt is now owed—wilt thou make it right?”

Figures.

“...What do you want?” I asked hesitantly.

“I have but one desire. To solve a matter very dire. As I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn. All I have is my being, my seed. Without it, I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out. Yet I shall die if left without.”

“Er… okay. Sounds easy enough. Though, as I’m sure you’re aware, this forest is tough to navigate. Could you point us in the right direction?”

“Go to the east to find this man. I shall await. Do what thou can.”

“So, to recap, we find the thief who stole your acorn. We bring it back. And poof! We can access the werewolves’ lair?” Alistair clarified.

The tree nodded. And yeah, it was about as unnerving as it sounds.

“Perform the boon as I ask. And I shall reward thee for the task.”

“Don’t bother. I have it right here.” Zevran walked up from apparently out of nowhere and held up a tiny, insignificant acorn for the Great Oak to inspect.

“Zev?! But… but how?!” I somehow managed to ask, even though my jaw was on the floor.

“I crossed paths with a rather… eccentric creature in my travels last night. As luck would have it, the hermit had an affinity for shiny things. And you know me, I am never without my share of glittering trinkets. He had a few… curious items he was willing to barter. And something told me to take him up on it.”

“But you love your shiny things… I’ve seen you risk life and limb for useless baubles.” Alistair scratched his head. “And wait a minute. What are you even doing back here? Did you find Shina?”

“I did not. The hold she had on me, the connection she forged, it seems it has been severed. My mind is my own again. And as such, it was rather easy to let go of my worldly possessions. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that all that glitters is not gold.”

He approached the grand oak, hand still outstretched toward it. “Here, my friend. May this family reunion be much happier than mine.”

“I wish thee well, my mortal friend. Thou brought my sadness to an end! May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong.”

And with that, the Grand Oak went on its merry way, taking its lumbering steps slow as molasses. (Get it? Lumber? It’s a tree? I got a million of ‘em.)

“If the connection’s been severed, that means Shina’s likely dead, right?” I asked, unable to conceal the hint of hopefulness laced in my tone.

Wynne shook her head. “Not necessarily. It would take a great deal of concentration to maintain a spell such as the one she cast on Zevran. It is possible that Shina has encountered something that broke that concentration. Nothing more.”

Fuck.

Just then, the tree turned around and made its way back to us.

“Please forgive me for being rude. I have no wish to intrude. But I know the elf of which you speak. She sought to control the Sylvan spirits. She sought to control me.”

“What do you mean ‘control you’?”

“The power she wields is dark and strong. She called to the forest spirits with her sour song. Some of the others fell prey to the witch. But I have managed to somehow resist.”

“Do you know where she is now?” I asked.

The elder tree fell silent for a moment, seeming to really focus its attention. Maybe it could feel all the goings on within the Brecilian Forest by nature of its spirit connection to it. Or maybe there was some sort of network between the Oak and its fellow trees that gave it increased insight. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I just wanted all the help it could give us.

“A demon she summoned has broken free of its cell. She is now at its mercy, as best I can tell. Tis a lesson all should learn: When one plays with fire, one is bound to get burned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Oak in the game is a bit smaller than the one I featured here. This one was more akin to Treebeard in LOTR. I also took the liberty of making up a few rhymes of my own--hopefully I didn't botch that too badly! :D


	54. To the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When tragedy strikes, Scarlett and Alistair must come to terms with the fact that their leadership styles are very, VERY different. And Zevran gets a taste of sweet revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh the plot thickens. Enjoy, dear readers, and as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! :D

So, there I was, mentally weighing the pros and cons of attempting a rescue mission or leaving the deceitful bitch to die at the hands of her own monstrosity. After drowning out that extremely loud and incredibly persuasive voice in my head telling me I should leave her for dead, I concluded Shina would be more of an asset to us if she remained among the living. She had answers, and I had a whoooooole lotta questions. 

Damnit. 

Now comes the fun part: Convincing the others to delay our search for Witherfang even further to find her. 

“What do you want to do?” Alistair asked after he’d given me a moment to get my head together. Bless him. 

“ _ Want? _ I  _ want _ to bash her skull in with the pommel of my sword…” I began. 

“I’m fairly certain we can leave that particular task to the demon.” Alistair reasoned. 

“Silly Alistair. Demons do not wield swords.” Leliana corrected him. 

“Duh, I know that. I just mean that if we leave her out there alone, it all ends the same way: Shina dies.” 

“I wasn’t finished.” I interjected. “Sadly, this isn’t about what I  _ want _ to do. It’s about what we  _ need  _ to do. We need information. We need to find out what other little surprises Isolde might have waiting up her sleeve. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, we’ll learn nothing if we let that demon kill Shina. ” 

“I agree.” Zevran asserted. “The things she knew—sordid details of my past, the exact location of our whereabouts…  if I didn’t know better, I’d say we have a spy in our midst.” The elf looked around at everyone as dramatically as possible, ever the showman. 

“No. No no no. Don’t even go there. You’ll accuse me. I’ll accuse Morrigan. Morrigan will accuse Oghren. Oghren will accuse Shale, Shale will accuse the bloody birds and on and on and on. It’ll all snowball and keep spiraling out of control until you can’t do so much as pick your nose without someone being suspicious of you. We can’t function like that. We just can’t.” Alistair warned wisely, albeit… graphically. 

“First off, eww. Could you not come up with a better analogy?” I made a face at Alistair who just smiled innocently and shrugged. “Secondly, Alistair is right. We need solidarity now more than ever. I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for all of this, but the longer we stay here squabbling, the less likely we are to find the witch alive. Can we get a move on?” 

“Where, Scarlett? Where, pray tell, do you wish to go?” Morrigan made a sweeping gesture to showcase our completely unfamiliar surroundings. “We are now robbed of our so-called guide, remember? How do you intend to find a lone blood mage in this woodsy labyrinth?” 

It was a valid question. How in the Maker’s name were we going to find Shina before it was too late? Before I could really let that quandary sink in, I noticed Meatball sniffing around the roots of the Elder Tree. 

I then heard what could only be described as a low, rumbling snicker emanating from our new planty friend. 

“What curious creature is this? I do hope nothing is amiss....” The tree looked down to observe the dog curiously. 

“He’s my pet Mabari. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you.” I smiled at the tree reassuringly. “I think he just likes the way you smell.” 

And as soon as I finished that sentence, Meatball, right on cue, decided to relieve himself right there on the roots at the base of the Grand Oak. 

“MEATBALL! NO!” I rushed over to try and shoo him away. I was too late. The Mabari’s bladder was empty and its contents were splattered all over the bottom of tree’s trunk. 

“Bad dog! BAD!” I wagged my finger at the pup, who whined pathetically. “I am so profoundly sorry.” I offered to the Oak. 

The tree laughed once again, but this time it was a bit more hearty. “Do not worry, my new canine friend. Your call of nature did not offend.” 

“Should we not… uh… rub his nose in it? Isn’t that a thing with dogs who do something bad?” Zevran asked. 

“His... nose?” I blinked.

“Yes, that thing at the end of his face. Black, round, usually wet, often used for sniffing and snorting… You are no doubt familiar with the concept.” Zevran quipped. 

“Y-yes…” I stammered as the idea Zev sparked began to fully take shape. “His... nose… His NOSE! His big, beautiful nose!” 

Meatball gave a happy bark at my apparent exuberance. Yeah, I had an epiphany. I confess I sometimes get overly excited when that happens. It’s my one flaw. 

“Zev, do you have anything of Shina’s? Any of her personal effects?” I asked impatiently.

“Let’s see… she gave me her gloves after I told her they reminded me of—”

“Perfect.” I snatched the ornate leather gloves from the elf’s hands. “Meatball, here boy!” I whistled to beckon him closer and offered the Mabari the gloves for a sniff. He nosed around the leather, even licking it a couple of times for good measure. 

“Got the scent?” I asked after about a minute of the dog’s probing, to which he replied with a bark I could only assume was in the affirmative. “Good boy!” I knelt down and scratched him behind the ears before hopping back up to my feet. “Lead the way!” 

…

Meatball kept his nose to the ground most of the journey, coming back to my side to give the gloves a few additional sniffs every now and again to keep the scent fresh. And, true to his word, the Grand Oak did make navigating the forest a whole lot easier. How exactly he pulled that off, I have no idea, but I wasn’t about to question it. Arborescent magic was well outside my area of expertise. We spied new sights and landmarks fairly frequently, which served as a very pleasant reminder that we were covering ground at a decent clip—that was good enough for me.

“You are most quiet, my dear.” Zevran observed as his step fell in sync with Leliana’s. “It is not like you.” 

“And why should I speak? The only thing capable of coming out of my mouth is, oh... what was your choice phrase again?”

“Bullshit.” Morrigan simply couldn’t resist the opportunity to get a dig in. 

“I was not speaking to  _ you!”  _ Leliana hissed. 

“I was merely trying to help.” Morrigan retorted flippantly.

“You wish to help? Keep that pointy, Flemeth-looking nose of yours out of my business.” 

I snapped my eyes closed at the harshness of the statement, bracing for Morrigan’s wrath that was sure to follow. Alistair, presumably to play peacekeeper as any good leader should, began to open his mouth. I’m sure his intentions were good (though where Morrigan is concerned, who really knows), but I gave him a quick kiss before he could get a word out and shook my head to silently advise him to keep his trap shut. His involvement would only escalate the situation. He gave me a puzzled look before glancing behind him at the burgeoning conflict. I pulled him close and whispered in his ear. 

“Here’s another tip for my favorite future king: Sometimes knowing when  _ not _ to get involved is just as important as the opposite.” 

He quirked a brow at first, then thought about it for a second and ultimately nodded before stealing another quick kiss and ignoring the conversation at our backs. 

“Ladies, please. You are both far too beautiful to be so ugly to one another.” Zevran cooed in an attempt to smooth things over.    
“Save your cheap flattery for someone who gives a damn, elf.” Morrigan spat before quickening her stride so she was decidedly farther away from the—I hesitate to say “couple,” but you know what I mean. 

“Thank you, Scarlett. I very much appreciate your intervention back there. It truly warms the cockles of my heart to know I have your support.” Morrigan groaned sardonically. 

I chuckled at that. “Oh, please. If there ever was a woman who doesn’t need someone else to fight her battles for her, it’s you.” 

She gave me a weak smile at the compliment. 

And then, of course, in true Alistair fashion, he just  _ haaaaad  _ to say his piece. 

“Unless, of course, the battle involves killing a legendary witch of the Kocari Wilds. You were all too happy to have someone else fight that one for you. But, you know, who’s counting, right?” 

I could almost see the barbs that Morrigan was about to spew from her mouth, but that was when Meatball let out a decisive “HOOOOOOWWWWWL.” The source of the scent he was tracking had been found.

Joy. 

If they noticed us, they did a damn good job of hiding it. It was quite the sight. Shina was seemingly unconscious and lying flat on her back, wrists and ankles bound to some sort of sacrificial stone monolith, surrounded by what appeared to be even more blood mages doing some kind of unnerving dance to summon their dark magic. There was no demon to speak of, but it’s quite possible that situation was taken care of before we got here by this weird cadre of maleficarum. I wasn’t sure what their plans were for the shackled elf, but if I were a guessing person, I’d say it was nothing good. 

“What do you make of this, Wynne?” I quietly asked the mage standing behind me as we all moved to a spot that was slightly less visible to the naked eye. 

“I can’t be sure. It’s blood magic, but to what end?” she replied. 

“Does it matter? Blood magic is bad. All of it. Let’s stop this before they finish… whatever it is they’re doing.” Alistair suggested. 

“You have such a large head to house such a small mind.” Morrigan rolled her eyes. “There are several of them, and maleficarum are nothing to be trifled with. Simply rushing in could be suicide. We need a plan.” 

Huh… a plan? Really? Maybe I was rubbing off on Morrigan more than I thought. Point for me. 

“Alistair. You were a templar. Can’t you just sort of… make them stop?” I asked. 

He chuckled bitterly at that. “I wasn’t exactly a model student in templar training, Scarlett. And I’m a bit rusty. One of them I might be able to handle, but… not this many. Not all at once.” 

“Okay. Plan B: Wynne? I know you’re probably tired still from our fight with that demon yesterday, but… do you think you could ask your spirit friend to do us a solid here?” I entreated.

“I… I suppose I could try to drain their mana. That should interrupt them immediately and deal a decisive blow. But it won’t finish them. You will all need to be ready to fight.” 

“I think that’s our best bet. Do you concur, Alistair?” I asked politely. Yes, believe it or not, I can play nice in the sandbox when the situation calls for it. 

“Yes. That. Let’s do that. Just do it now!” He implored the elder mage. 

Wynne closed her eyes tightly and furrowed her brows, her thin, papery hands wrapping around her staff, which was beginning to glow a very bright cyan. Before long, her whole body began to tremble as the spell began to take shape, a gossamer circle of white and blue swirling about the blood mages like some kind of arcane tornado. With a thunderous cry Alistair ran toward them headlong, sword extended and shield firmly in place. The others and I followed him into the fray—though, calling it a fray might be hyperbolizing a bit. Whatever Wynne did seemed to work better than we could have hoped; one more hit from each of us and every single blood mage there was down for the count. 

The swift victory, however, did not come without cost. Wynne collapsed almost immediately after the spell was cast. 

My first instinct was to run to her side, as was everyone’s, but that would leave Shina unguarded, and that simply would not fly. 

“Go to her, Scarlett. I’ll watch Shina.” Zevran offered. 

“She bewitched you once, Zev. She could do it again.” 

“Not in this state. She’s not even awake. Besides, I can take care of myself. Now go.” 

“Oghren, you should be immune to her magic. Go with Zev. Guard Shina.” 

The dwarf gave me a nod and ran as quick as his little legs could carry him to catch up with the elf. No quips, no jibes, no protests. Wonders never cease. 

“Wynne? WYNNE?!” I called as I ran to her. She didn’t move. I knelt down and rested my head against her chest, desperate to hear a heartbeat, feel the ebbs and flows of her breathing. 

Nothing. 

“No. No no no. Please.” I held the mage’s hand and brought it to my forehead as I lowered my head and felt the tears began to fall. 

“Morrigan? Is… is there nothing you can do?” I begged. 

“I am sorry, Scarlett. But I am no healer. You know this. My talents lie… elsewhere.” 

“Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK!” I shrieked in frustration, naively hoping Wynne would come back and chide me for my crass language. She didn’t, of course. And that’s when the guilt began to set in. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard again so soon. Her life’s been hanging by a thread for months now. I knew that and I asked this of her anyway. This was my fault. 

My pity party was swiftly interrupted, however, by the “tsk tsk tsk” of the bound blood mage. 

“Oh dear. Quite the predicament you’re in, no? Such a shame. If only there were another mage here who knows healing magic.” Shina, apparently now awake, taunted in some accent that was most definitely NOT Antivan. Not anymore. Quite the little actress, this one. 

I shot her the most hate-filled, rancorous look I could muster as soon as she uttered the first word. And I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard a “gulp.”

Intimidating? Little old me? Perish the thought. 

“Cut me loose, swear you’ll allow me to walk out of here with my life, and I’ll bring her back.” Shina offered.

I gave her a dry laugh. “Counter offer: You bring Wynne back to us right fucking now, or we kill you.” 

Now it was the elf’s turn to laugh. “Please. Let’s dispense with the empty threats, shall we? You won’t kill me yet. I know you won’t. Do you know why?” 

My glare somehow became even more deadly as I stared her down. 

“Because you need what I know. That is why you’re here, is it not? Or am I to believe you were just going for a pleasant stroll and happened upon a damsel in distress?” 

My resolve began to weaken slightly, and I knew she could sense it. I hated it when enemies were smart. I was so used to being the one with the upperhand—at least when it comes to brains. Darkspawn aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. Shina? Well, Shina was a whole other kettle of fish. 

“Bring her back. Please. We won’t kill you. You have my word.” Alistair vowed. 

“Alistair!” I yelled in protest, but it was too bloody late. The words had already spilled from his mouth. 

Aaaaaaaand there went our only bargaining chip. Great. Just fucking swell. 

Shina smiled a smile that chilled me to my core before fixing her eyes on Zevran. “Well? Be a good boy and untie mummy, won’t you?”

“You are not my mother. And I do not recall untying you being part of the deal.” Zevran managed to eek out from behind gritted teeth. It didn’t take a genius to see he was hopping mad. 

“Ah, there’s the rub. We spellcasters, we need our hands, I’m afraid. I’ll need to lay them on the woman to heal her.” 

Zevran looked over to me, and I gave him a nod of approval. What else could we do? However, I also knew Zev was resourceful. If anyone could find a way to keep her restrained, it was him. 

With a few flicks of a wrist his dagger cut the ropes binding the other elf’s feet and ankles. As soon as she was free she tried to run, of course, but Shina soon came to realize she could not get farther than about, oh, five feet or so. Quicker than my naked eye could see, Zev somehow managed to use that same rope to wrap around her neck. We now had a blood mage on a leash. He pulled her to him, her back against the front of his torso, and whispered something in her ear. I couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever it was wiped that condescending smirk right off her pretty little face. 

“Walk.” Zevran demanded. Shina complied. Once she was close enough she knelt down at Wynne’s side, closed her eyes, and placed both hands on her chest. 

“I’ll need blood for this.” Shina explained. 

“You never said anything about using blood magic!” Alistair vehemently protested. 

“Oh heavens me, you’re right. I did neglect to mention that, didn’t I? Am I to assume you want her to die, then?” 

Alistair was left with no choice but to shut his mouth and hang his head. I knew him well enough by now to know what he was thinking. He shared a special bond with Wynne. She had become a mother to him, of sorts. No way was he about to let her die; not if there was a chance she could be saved—the means be damned. 

“Ah, how quickly the moral high ground crumbles when it suits your whims.” The elf smiled smugly. “Now, as I was saying before I was so  _ rudely _ interrupted by this royal imbecile, I. Need. Blood. Do I have a volunteer?” Shina posed. 

“Oh, allow me.” Leliana offered as she moved to the elf’s side. 

“Splendid! Now just hold out—” 

Before she could finish, Leliana grabbed Shina by the wrist and split her palm open with a knife, quick as a wink. The elf hissed in pain as the blood flowed from the wound. 

“The blood you requested, my lady.” Leliana smirked. 

“Cute.” Shina scoffed as she took the blood and rubbed it all over her hands. 

...Weird. 

“You know, I’ve heard it said that the power of blood magic is contingent upon the amount of pain involved in drawing the blood. Perhaps I should be more thorough…” Leliana made a big show of readying the knife for another slice. 

“No no no. This will do.” Shina insisted nervously. The elf lay hands on Wynne’s chest and uttered words that were beyond my comprehension—only a whisper at first, then louder and louder and louder each time they were repeated. Shina then laced her fingers together to form one fist with her bloodied hands and began to pound on Wynne’s chest. Hard. Once. Twice. Three times, as though her fists were going to jumpstart the other mage’s heart. 

Wynne awoke with a startling gasp, her eyes growing watery as color began to fill her pallid cheeks once again. 

“Welcome back.” Alistair smiled as he ran the back of his hand down her slightly wrinkled cheek. 

“Wha… what happened?” Wynne looked around, dazed and confused. 

“You gave us quite a scare there, Wynne.” Leliana smiled warmly. “Just a little fainting spell. Nothing to worry about.” she lied. 

“No.” Wynne shook her head. “No, I… I shouldn’t be here. I was… I was in the Fade. I know I was. It was time. Why? Why am I here? What brought me back?” 

“I did. The bastard prince here made a deal. I keep my life if you keep yours.” Shina explained coldly. Then Wynne noticed the blood on the elf’s hands. 

“Blood magic…” She uttered barely above a whisper before turning her attention back to us. “Alistair! How could you?!” Wynne scolded. 

“How could I… save your life? Are you seriously asking me this right now?” Alistair defended. 

“And what of the cost? Blood magic is dangerous. You know this. A good king must never compromise his principles. He must never waver. He must—” 

“ENOUGH!” Alistair shouted, making Wynne’s eyes grow wide as saucers. “I am sick to death of being told what a good king is and isn’t. What he does or doesn’t do. I never claimed to be a good king. I never even claimed to be  _ A _ king. I’m just me. And just me thought your life was more important than Shina getting a bloody scrape across the hand.” His hands, balled into fists with white knuckles, slowly began to loosen up as he took a deep breath in and whispered, “I’ve lost my father. I’ve lost my mother. My brother. Duncan. I just… I wasn’t ready to lose you, too. Not yet.” 

I rested my hand on his shoulder, the heartbreak in his words making my own chest heavy. 

Wynne’s eyes began to fill with tears and regret as she looked up at him. “Alistair, I…” 

He just shook his head and walked away. 

“So young. So desperate for love and approval. Don’t it just break your heart?” Shina grinned cruelly as she watched Alistair go, though where he was headed, I couldn’t tell you. I just knew that with Shina now in our custody, I was in no position to follow. 

“I should go to him.” Wynne offered. 

I nodded. “Yes, I think he needs that right now. But don’t wander too far. We’ll catch you up soon.” 

“What will you do?” Wynne asked. 

I unsheathed my sword. “Shina and I have some unfinished business.” 

“Oooh that sounds like fun.” Shina smirked as Wynne got up and made her way to Alistair. 

I trained the tip of my sword right at her throat. “Doesn’t it, though?”

“I must warn you, however. Unlike your Antivan friend here, I was, in fact, paid extra for my silence.” 

“Oh, we have ways of making you talk.” Zevran grinned as he tightened the rope around the other elf’s neck. Shina tensed her muscles to keep the rope from blocking her air supply.

“...Really? Yikes. Cool it with the cliches, Zev.” 

“Sorry. Force of habit.” 

“I’m going to be completely candid with you here, Shina. Alistair and Wynne? The two people who are now conveniently no longer within sight of us? They are the only ones in my little brood here who might object to Zevran slicing off various parts of your body until you tell us what we wish to know. I myself have no qualms with this approach. So, I guess the question is, what’s worth more to you? Your precious silence, or your limbs?”

Shina swallowed hard, but ultimately decided to remain stubborn. 

“You’re bluffing.”

“Zev?” I called. 

The elf proceeded to quickly slice off her left ear, pointy tip to lobe. Shina squealed in pain, the wound bleeding like a sieve as she held her hand to it in an attempt to stop the torrent of blood. 

“Ah, that felt good. Next will be a finger or two. Then one hand. Then the other. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t spellcasters need the use of their hands?” Zev threw the blood mage’s words back at her. 

“ALRIGHT!” she croaked, her voice crackling with pain. “What do you want to know?” 

“How did you know we’d be in the Brecilian Forest? How did you know how to find us?” I inquired sternly. 

“Connor.” Shina replied plainly. 

“Horse shit. Try again.” I pressed my blade against her skin to draw a little blood. I knew Connor. I spent time with him. He wouldn’t betray us. There was no way. 

“It’s true. You told him too much. Did you really think Isolde would send her precious boy off to the Circle without making… arrangements?” 

“Arrangements? What are you talking about?” 

“She had one of the templars in her pocket. She paid him a rather exorbitant amount of coin to keep an eye on the boy until the time came when she could get him out.”

“A name. I want the name of this templar.” 

“I don’t recall.” 

“Zevran.” I ordered again. 

He pulled Shina’s hair back, exposing her other ear to his blade, which he slowly began to bring down on her.

“Carroll!” She cried before the blade could slice through her flesh. “His name was Carroll. He overheard your talks with the boy. Overheard your plans to come here. He told Isolde he knew where you’d be, and so she sent me.” 

“My turn. Why was I targeted? How did you know what you knew about my past? Why did you—” The questions came flying out of Zevran’s mouth at an alarming rate. 

“I am not a Crow. I do, however, liaise with them… when it suits me. Taliesen had taken the assignment to kill the wardens and retrieve you. He did not, however, wish to suffer your same fate. So we tried a new tactic. Gain their trust, first. Carroll had seen how cozy you were with Scarlett at the Circle. With what Taliesen knew about you, it was almost too easy to fool you, my sweet Zevran. After all, who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned family reunion?”

You’d never know it if you weren’t really looking, but as I looked into his eyes I could see it plainly: This woman had hurt Zevran. Despite all his tries to stay cold, stay distant, he dared have hope that he’d found something to fill that void in his soul. And my heart broke for him, it really did. 

“Oh, don’t look so glum. It was nothing personal. Simply a means to an end. You of all people should be able to understand that.”

“No. What you did was beyond low. It was… abhorrent. It was needlessly cruel. Have you no shame?” Zevran asked in a rare moment of abject sincerity. 

“You were a job, Zevran. Nothing more. And Taliesen provided me with the tools to get the job done. As for shame, well, there are three basic tenets to being an effective assassin: Be beautiful. Be powerful. And be without regret. I am proud to say I have mastered all three. Are you truly upset because I am not who I claimed, or are you angry because you were bested at your own twisted game?” 

Zevran began to lunge his dagger at the mage, but by the grace of the Maker I managed to wrap my hand around his forearm and catch him before it was too late. I shot him a glare that I hoped said “Not yet.” He seemed to understand and relaxed a little. 

“So the plan was to lure us into a false sense of security. Tire us out. Make us weak by having us wander around this bloody forest for hours, fighting those Sylvans that were under your control. And if they didn’t finish the job, you’d have a demon do your dirty work and kill us all.” I put the pieces together. 

“Ding ding ding! You really are quite bright, despite what people say. And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for Wynne. Her current… ah, how should I put it… symbiosis, with that spirit dwelling inside her… it was not something I had bargained for.”

“What a shame.” I offered sarcastically. 

“Indeed. When I learned you survived the encounter, I tried to summon another demon. Give it another try. But I was ambushed by those maleficar. They put the creature down before I could finish binding it and tied me up for their own… malevolent purposes. And here we are. Now, are we done?” 

“No. Not by a long shot. I need to know more about Isolde. What is she planning?” 

“Ah, I hate to disappoint, but my relationship with the Red Queen was strictly on a need-to-know basis. She told me how to find you. How to get in good with the Antivan. Whatever else she’s planning, I’m afraid she didn’t fill me in.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Any other time you’d be absolutely right, but I’m afraid this time, you could not be more wrong.” 

“Leliana?” I called. Leliana was blessed with pretty incredible bullshit detection … most of the time. 

“I… I think she’s telling the truth, Scarlett.” 

“Seeeeee? But I will give you this little bit for free. You know, as a show of good faith: Isolde is prepared to do anything, and I do mean ANYTHING, to discredit Alistair’s claim to the Ferelden throne. At Loghain’s side in Denerim, her resources are… considerable. She will leave no stone unturned, no page unread, no corner unexplored until she finds irrefutable evidence that Alistair cannot rule. You would do well to remember that.” 

She paused waiting for some kind of response. I didn’t have one. It was a lot to process. And the list of people I needed to kill was getting longer by the minute. 

“Now, I think I have cooperated to the fullest extent possible. The bastard gave me his word. Let me go.” 

Zevran looked into my eyes, and I gave him another nod. He knew exactly what it meant. 

“Well, that’s the thing about us bastards…” He took his dagger swiped it across Shina’s throat before he plunged it deep into the witch’s stomach, “We’re just so damn untrustworthy.” He twisted the blade so the wound wouldn’t close and pulled Shina in close as he whispered, “And for the record, my dear, this is very, very personal.” 

He pushed her forcefully away from him and we all just stood there, watching her bleed out on the grass. It didn’t take long and I’m not sure what this says about me but… it felt good. Like a wrong had been righted. Like justice had been served for once. 

“NO!!!”

Hold that thought. 

“What have you done?!” Alistair yelled as soon as he came back into view. 

Uh oh. 

“Done? My dear boy, I’ve merely solved a problem. And quite effectively, I might add.” Zevran boasted. 

“I… I gave her my word. I promised her she’d live. How could you let him do this?” Alistair asked me in his accusatory tone that he only saved for special occasions. Great. 

“It was the right thing to do.” I explained plainly. 

“We killed a woman who was tied up after I swore we’d set her free if she did what she was told. How is this the right thing?” 

“Not just a woman. A blood mage who tried to kill us first. On multiple occasions. Tell me, o mighty templar, does your hypocrisy know no bounds? What of those other blood mages we simply attacked on sight? Are those lives worth less than this woman’s?” Morrigan chimed in. 

Alistair bared his teeth and clenched his jaw, his face and neck beginning to turn red with anger. Being called a hypocrite clearly did nothing to help him see reason. Go figure. 

“Let me paint a picture for you, Alistair.” I began calmly. “We let Shina walk out of here. She goes back to Isolde. She tells her she failed and that we still live. Isolde sends another assassin. And another. And another. Until one day they succeed and we’re left with precisely fuck all to defeat the Archdemon and save the bloody world. I kind of thought the risk of that eventuality outweighed your fucking promise, which, I might add, you only made because you were emotionally compromised.”

“That’s… that’s not fair. I mean, you’re a behemoth.”

“A what?” I asked, puzzled and irritated. 

“I think he means a berserker.” Oghren explained. 

“Right, whatever. You’re that B word. You are the definition of emotionally compromised. Why is this different?” 

“Because I take my anger and turn it into something useful. It wasn't anger you latched onto Alistair, it was fear. It was fear that Wynne wouldn’t come back. Fear made you make that promise. And fear is useless.”

“Why is everyone making me feel like saving Wynne was somehow the wrong thing to do? I don’t understand.” 

“I know what you did for me, Alistair, and I am grateful.” Wynne explained gently. “But what you are doing must be bigger than you or me. You and Scarlett have to save the world. And nothing, not even the loss of those we care about, can threaten that mission. Do you understand?” 

Alistair let out a dry laugh. “No, I don’t understand. Not really. If we lose the ones we care about, then what in the Maker’s name makes this world worth saving?” 

He looked me in the eyes while he said it, the gravity and sincerity of the words so blatant, so raw. All this talk lately of leadership and kings… he had been a pretty good sport up until now, playing this new role to the best of his ability, learning and absorbing as much as he could. But despite what Wynne said, no one could reasonably be expected to be that selfless 100 percent of the time. That undying question that had been looming in the background since we woke Eamon came to the forefront once again: Did Alistair becoming king mean the end for us? 

I broke the eye contact we shared and shook it off. Another time. Another place. Focus, Scarlett. 

“This is getting us nowhere and we’re losing daylight. Shina is dead. Wynne is alive. Win-win. Now, we need to find that werewolf lair and we need to find it soon. Let’s finish this.” 

Yep, when in doubt, resort to cold, unfeeling pragmatism. 

… Eesh. Maybe that relationship with Morrigan I mentioned works both ways—seems she’s rubbing off on me, too. 

...

We resumed our journey in strained silence. A bevy of emotions were running rampant, and none of them were especially warm and fuzzy. Anger, betrayal, frustration, annoyance, regret, the list goes on. Luckily, it wasn’t long before we ran into our old pal Swiftrunner again. And he seemed… less than psyched to see us. 

Boy, today just keeps getting better and better. 

“The forest has not been vigilant enough. You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well. You do not belong here, outsider. LEAVE THIS PLACE!” The wolf demanded as his lackeys ran up to join him. 

“Look, I told you before, we need to see Witherfang. And we’re not leaving until we do.” Alistair explained as he crossed his arms stubbornly. 

“Hrrrrr. You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!” 

“Why do you call them treacherous?  _ You _ attacked  _ them, _ remember? What did they do to you?” Alistair asked, and quite smartly. Color me impressed. There was more going on here than Zathrian had let on. I could feel it. 

“They deserve no less! You are an intruder in our home. You come to kill, as all your kind do. We have learned this lesson well. Here, Witherfang protects us. Here, we learn our names and are beloved. We will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!”

And with a long, shrill “HOOOOWWWWL,” the time for talk came to an end. Swiftrunner and his brothers attacked us. And we retaliated in kind. 

Hmm… you must be sick to death of reading about our countless fights with the wolves and trees and whatever else by now. I’m running out of ways to keep all this sounding exciting. Shall we try onomatopoeia this time? Pow. Clash. Pop. Squish. Bash. Bark. Bonk. Chomp. Crack. Growl. Slash. Thud. 

I am happy to report that the “thud” was Swiftrunner and his pack hitting the ground after we’d kicked the ever-loving crap out of them. Right before we could complete our coup de grace, however, a new wolf came to their rescue. A wolf with white fur that had a certain air of magic and majesty. A wolf that exactly matched the description Zathrian had given us. 

Witherfang. 


End file.
